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Library of Choice Fiction. Issued monthly. By Subscription, $6.00 per annum. 
No. BO. September, 1891. Entered at Chicago Postoffice as second-class matter. 























* 

















. 


. 







































































V/SSs 


















THE LIBRARY OF CHOICE FICTION 


SAVEDbya dream 


CConsuelo 








*Our lives are two-fold: Sleep hath its oivn worla , 

A boundary between the things misnamed \ 

Death and existence: Sleep hath its own world , ^ 

And a wide realm of wide reality , 


CD. ^ 




And dreams in their development have breathy 
And tears , and toi'ture, and the touch of joy. 


-Byroh. 


\ 


♦♦♦Illustrated ♦ ♦♦ 



CHICAGO 

LAIRD & LEE, Publishers 







Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1891, by 
LAIRD & LEE, 

In the office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 
(All rights reserved.) 






INTRODUCTION. 


I OPEN my study window. The morning has 
not dawned upon the sleeping world. 
Hopefully, trustingly I give my message to my 
guiding spirit, Faith, and whisper: “ Go forth 
and awaken the slumbering souls of men; show 
them God’s angels hovering around them, bring¬ 
ing messages they call dreams, far more impor¬ 
tant than the telegraph in their waking hours. ’ * 
Bid them hearken. Tell them ‘ ‘ no longer 
through the glass darkly, but face to face ” they 
may know the presence of the Eternal and Ever¬ 
lasting God is with them, and a silent Presence 
doth hourly glide beside and guide them. Bid 
them to listen well, and they shall hear the voice, 
crying: “Awaken! ye sons and daughters of 

men.” Tell them there are messages on every 
moonbeam, in every zephyr, in every ray of 
sunlight, in the solemn stillness of the night, in 
the deep darkness, saying: 

“Go ye, therefore, and teach all nations, 
baptizing them in the name of the Father, and 
of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: teaching 
them to observe all things whatsoever I have 
commanded you: and lo, I am with you always, 
even unto the end of the world. Amen. ’ ’ 










CHAPTER I. 


THE DREAM. 

Floating through the air were fiend¬ 
ish things, others coiled round columns 
and crawled over the ceiling. Hideous 
things of life, and there were dead things, 
too, lying stiff and stark upon the floor. 
There were creeping things upon the 
earth, vile reptiles from which wild creat¬ 
ures fled in fear. There were hissing and 
taunting demons, with serpents for hair, 
scorpions for their whips, and spurs of 
fire. Then, further on, a dark abyss of 
midnight blackness, where no vision of 
memory ever returns. Lighting up the 
gloom of this awful scene were rosy hues 
of vanishing hopes, fair dreams of departed 
joys, that came like flashes of lightning, 
and the muttering thunders were the 



TO 


SAVED BY A DREAM . 


groans of maniacs. Heaped in one corner 
were barrels of rum and a pyramid built 
of glittering glass. Among these things 
crawled every venemous and deadly rep¬ 
tile thing. A dreadful creature, with 
eyes of living coals and tongue of fire, 
with adders for bracelets and for gems, 
jeered and grinned as she pointed to blood 
and fire, murder and crimes of every 
kind, ill-shapen children and chattering 
idiots. 

I must have died in sleep, but a pale 
face, a woman’s face, looked into mine 
and said: 

“Be not afraid; these things you see 
are only the fancies of the people who live 
here and memories of deeds that brought 
them here. They cannot harm you nor 
me. Be gone!” she cried, waving her 
white arm high in air. ‘ ‘ See how they 
vanish before the light of reason and are 
gone! Yet in this hell of brick, and stone, 
and iron, rot men and women as sane as 
you .or I.” 



SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


II 


Then, as -my dream unfolded, I per¬ 
ceived that I was in a broad corridor, and 
the light which came to me struggled 
through windows grated with iron bars, 
and beside me stood a pale, delicate woman 
about my own height, with golden hair, 
from which the brightness had long since 
faded and was paling into gray. Great 
hazel eyes, and regular, even, beautiful 
features, which wore a look of unutterable 
misery. Her face was colorless as alabas¬ 
ter, and her white hand and arm seemed 
transparent. 

“Help me, oh help me, for God’s sake, 
to escape from this awful place! If you 
could grow weak and faint in one short 
moment here, as I saw you just now, think 
what I must have endured in six long 
years.” 

I awoke. A strange feeling had pos¬ 
session of me. I can see that face, its oval 
outline, its wild, sad, pleading eyes, that 
crown of fading hair, those slender fingers 
on my arm, those parting lips, that flut- 



12 


SAVED BY A DREAM . 


tering breath, and can hear that voice 
whenever I stop to listen. I slept again, 
and in a second dream the face of a dear, 
departed friend appeared, and, bending 
near me, said: “That was no common 
dream, my child. There is work for you 
to do. God will show you when and 
where. Do it, and fear not. God’s 
blessing follow you.” 

When I awoke this time I started up 
and roused my husband. The very at¬ 
mosphere seemed still to tremble with a 
wave of that whispered voice—an angel 
voice, I know—and never in my life has 
anything taken such complete possession 
of me. The shadow of some coming event 
hangs over me. A mysterious presence is 
ever with me, not startling or frightening, 
but strengthening me, encouraging me, 
leading me somewhere, to do something, 
I know not what. I have a work to do, 
something which this weird dream foretells. 

This recital has caused a deathlike 
stillness among the assembled guests, as 



SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


*3 


the face of the relator changed with that 
varying expression of extremely sensitive 
natures. 

One person, a gentleman, a brother-in- 
law of the relator, sat pale, rigid, terrified. 
A clammy perspiration stood on his 
forehead, and his lips, which were parted, 
had lost color and were cold. His sister, 
who sat near him, perceiving his agitation 
took his hand and was startled at its 
temperature. Their eyes met, and a 
shudder like an electric shock passed from 
the one to the other. 

“It’s horrible for a woman to make 
such an attempt to create a sensation,” 
she said, sotto voce . 

“A dream like that would damn any 
decent woman,” he said, trying to choke 
down something that rose in his throat as 
he whispered this reply. And he contin¬ 
ued in the same undertone: “What a 
consumate hypocrite the creature is, 
a most perfect actress. But it seems to 
take well in a crowd like this. However, ’ ’ 



14 


SAVED By A DREAM. 


he continued, clenching his hand and 
grinding his white teeth, “ I predict she 
will see some of the very sights she 
described in her dream.” 

This recital of Grace Norwood’s dream 
had followed a discussion among some 
noted people, her guests, upon dreams, 
which became quite general. Some related 
dreams which they had heard others tell, 
and each and all gave their ideas of the 
mental conditions which cause persons to 
dream. 

“I believe sister Grace is near the 
truth,” said the brother-in-law, smiling 
blandly upon her, “and has found the 
exact spot to locate her hideous vision, 
viz.: An insane asylum; for, I believe, it 
is suggested by some of the best mental 
philosophers that the mind, while dream¬ 
ing, is in the same state as that of 
insanity. An insane person appears to 
be always in a dream.” 

The parties were assembled in a well- 
lighted salon, where a number of literary 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


15 


and scientific people were gathered for an 
evening’s social entertainment, called the 
“Esoteric Club.” 

“I do not, I cannot believe in dreams. 
No amount of persuasion could change 
my opinion,” exclaimed a lady who car¬ 
ried her head in a manner to indicate that 
her own opinion she considered of more 
value than that of any one else. 

“My dear madam,” said a scholarly 
man addressing her, and then glancing 
around the circle, “we do not want to 
persuade any person to believe in dreams. 
We have become interested in these men¬ 
tal phenomena, and it is pleasant to 
exchange our views, whether they are 
similar or not, provided they are unbiased 
by prejudice, and unwarped by super¬ 
stition.” 

“It is foolish, it is heathenish to pay 
any attention to the fancies of disordered 
brains which are influenced by diseased 
livers or stomachs,” retorted the lady 
with a little laugh at her own smartness. 



i6 


SAVED BY A DREAM . 


‘ ‘ Must we ignore the fact that it pleased 
Jehovah in former times to reveal his 
character and dispensations to his people 
through this very channel?” asked the 
gentleman in a quiet dignified manner. 

“I think the Bible speaks often as 
harshly against dreamers as in their 
favor,” she answered. 

“Now, will you be so kind as to give 
me even one instance?” asked her inter¬ 
locutor. 

“Why, did not Moses pronounce a 
penalty against dreams and dreamers?” 

“My dear madam, do not lead us to 
think you willfully misquote to gain your 
point, a thing so common among dis¬ 
believers always.” 

“I did not misquote,” she answered, 
reddening almost angrily; and now the 
attention of every person in the room was 
rivited upon the two, and a lively interest 
was manifest, for the gentleman was a 
learned professor and the other a woman 
who had gained more notoriety by being 



SAVED BY A DREAM . 


*7 


frequently before the public than by hav¬ 
ing been well before the public. 

“Very well, we will say that you did 
not misquote, but that you stopped short 
of the most potent facts in the quotation, 
for Moses only pronounced a penalty 
against dreams which were invented and 
wickedly made use of for the promotion of 
idolatry. (Deut. xiii: 1-5.) ‘I have 

heard what the prophets said that prophesy 
lies in my name, saying I have dreamed, 
I have dreamed.’ (Jeremiah xxiii: 25.) 
Yet this abuse did not alter God’s plan in 
the right use of them; for in the 28th 
verse of the same chapter it is said, ‘the 
prophet that hath a dream, and he that 
hath my word, let him speak my word 
faithfully. What is the chaff to the 
wheat, saith the Lord.’ Was it not in 
a dream that God promised to grant 
Solomon wisdom and understanding. 
(Kings iii: 5.) The sacred record shows 
how faithfully and punctually everything 
therein was fulfilled.” 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


18 


“ Well, that was in olden times, when 
God’s ways seemed different ways from 
His manifestations to us now,” she 
answered. 

‘ 1 If you believe ‘ there is anything new 
under the sun’ and that Jehovah is not 
the same to-day, yesterday, and always—’ ’ 

“I did not say that,” she retorted. 

“Job says: i God speaketh once, yea 
twice, yet man perceiveth it not. In a 
dream, in a vision of the night, when 
deep sleep falleth upon men in slum¬ 
bering upon the bed, then He openeth 
the ears of men and sealeth their 
instructions.’ Man will not under¬ 
stand. He is wandering from God, 
relying too much upon himself. If you 
read the life of Daniel, to whom God 
imparted this spirit, and in the arrange¬ 
ment of His Providence gave exercise for 
it as you perceive when 4 Nebuchadnezzar, 
king of Babylon, dreamed a dream, and 
his spirit was troubled because the thing 
had gone from him.’ In his deep impres- 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


19 


sion that it was of portentious meaning, 
he called together his magicians, astrolo¬ 
gers and sorcerers, and commanded them 
to recall and explain it to him. These 
reputedly wise men of Babylon acknowl¬ 
edged that it was beyond the capacity of 
men to meet the king’s wishes. Disap¬ 
pointed and enraged at this confessed 
inability, he ordered all the wise men of 
his kingdom to be put to death. Daniel 
being included in this order, implored 
God to reveal to him the dream with its 
interpretation. His prayer was graciously 
answered. (Dan. ii: 19.) Thereupon 
he acquaints the king, that there is a God 
in heaven who revealeth secrets, and 
maketh known to him what shall be in 
the latter days; and then proceeds to state 
the dream and the interpretation thereof. 
Satisfied with Daniel’s statement, 
Nebuchadnezzar said unto Daniel: ‘ Of 

a truth it is that your God is a God of 
Gods and Lord of Kings.’ In this dream 
and its fulfillment a great variety of ends 



20 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


were attained in reference to Babylon, and, 
indeed, the world, all of wbicb was worthy 
of God’s miraculous interference,” 
answered the professor. 

“That may be, but we, I hold, have 
nothing to do with the age of dreams and 
dreamers. We live under a new dispen¬ 
sation. We have nothing whatever to do 
with the Old Bible. Its prophesies were 
fulfilled in the coming of Christ.” 

“There now,” said the professor with 
sparkling eyes, “begin the dreams again. 
First, when Joseph would have put Mary 
away, but was turned from his purpose by 
a dream, in which the angel made the 
truth of the matter known. (Matt, i: 20.) 
And in the following chapter it is stated, 
God, in a dream, warned the wise men 
not to return to Herod. Joseph was 
instructed, in a dream, to flee into Egypt 
with the child Jesus. 

“And we find God’s faithful people, as 
recorded in the New Testament, acting 
with as prompt obedience to His warnings 



SAVED BY A DREAM . 


21 


and instructions in dreams, as did 
Abraham, Abimelech, and Jacob, and 
were saved from evil consequences. 

‘‘Jacob’s dream I consider one of the 
most marvelous, and his conviction of 
divine power was evinced in his words: 
1 Surely the Lord was in this place and I 
knew it not. * * * This is none 

other but the house of God, this is the 
gate of heaven.’ And he set a pillar up to 
perpetuate its memory, and made a solemn 
vow that Jehovah should be his God; and, 
moreover, such was the deep impression 
which this dream made upon his mind, 
that God, who appeared many years after¬ 
ward to him when yet in Padan-Aram and 
bade him return to his fatherland, urges 
this as a motive: ‘ I am the God of Bethel, 
where thou anointedst the pillar and 
where thou vowedst a vow to Me; ’ and 
we are informed in the sequel how God did 
fulfill to him all that He there promised. 

u Joseph, while yet a child, had dreams 
predictive of his future advancement 



22 


SATED BY A DREAM . 


(Gen. xxxvii: 6-n.) and its fulfillment. 
Now that this method of God’s revealing 
Himself was not confined to the legal 
dispensation, but was to be extended to 
the Christian is evident from Joel ii: 28, 
‘and afterward [saith the Lord] I will 
pour out My spirit upon all flesh, and 
your sons and your daughters shall 
prophesy, your young men shall see 
visions, and your old men shall dream 
dreams,’ and then straightway we see in 
the earliest chapters of the New Testa¬ 
ment how He instructs them in dreams.” 

He paused, and the breathless silence 
was more eloquent than words, to express 
the deep interest felt by everyone, and all 
seemed waiting for the professor to con¬ 
tinue. 

“The question is,” he asked, looking 
at the lady opposite him, who was some¬ 
what abashed by his calm demeanor, 

“ whether the Christian people of the 
nineteenth century want to continue in 
the close relation with God, which is 



SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


23 


evident from tlie manifestations of Scrip¬ 
ture, were maintained from the beginning 
of the record, through the New Testament 
and continued with His faithful, or do we 
want to consider ourselves as so far 
removed from divine influence that we are 
cut off from this beautiful thought even, 
that when sleep seals our eyes and we are 
dead to all the sights and sounds of the 
world, we may not receive these divine 
messages just as Joseph and the wise men 
did. We believe in the same God, we 
preach the same Christ; but we, of all 
others, would cut ourselves voluntarily off 
from this source of divine instruction to 
which Abraham and Jacob hearkened, and 
to which Joseph and the wise men gave 
heed. I should consider it a token of 
divine favor to be visited by one of those 
dreams, the fulfillment of which would 
convince me for a certainty that it was a 
divine warning or instruction.” 

Of all those who listened, none seemed 
more wrapt in attention than the hostess, 



24 


SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


whose face, ordinarily pale and almost 
plain, now beamed with a light that made 
it the most beautiful in the room. The 
professor was voicing her own thoughts. 
She believed in a certain class of dreams, 
for she had had many strange dreams that 
had been fulfilled to the letter. Their 
fulfillment had strengthened her childlike 
faith in religion and increased her rever¬ 
ence for the holy teachings of the Scripture, 
and she courted rather than avoided them, 
yet she was timid about relating her dreams 
because of the popular prejudice against 
them. She had been delighted to find so 
thorough a scholar and such a truly good 
man as the professor defending her most 
sacred belief, i. e., in the nearness of God 
and His angels to His faithful, the same 
to-day as in the generations of the past, 
and she cast an arch smile at her husband, 
who knew her every thought, who had 
heard her relate dreams and watched with 
interest the fulfillment of many of them. 

“But why,” asked one, “do we of 



SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


25 


the present generation not have such 
dreams ? ’ ’ 

“Do we ask God for wisdom instead of 
wealth and power, as Solomon did? Do 
we approach him with the faith of Daniel ? 
I believe it is our weak belief, our little 
faith, of which Christ complained so often, 
that robs ns of this pleasure and bless¬ 
ing.’’ 

The subject then turned upon science, 
and the hostess asked one of the learned 
professors if he did not believe that God 
continually revealed Himself to man in the 
wonders of science. “ For,” she said, ‘‘ no 
sooner is a great need felt, than there 
springs up a giant power in our midst, 
sometimes in the most unexpected places, 
to supply the want. Is not each inventor 
God’s agent? ” 

“It is certainly a beautiful thought, 
and I must confess it would tinge with a 
new glory every human achievement could 
we but recognize the spirit of the Divine 
Master moving the busy wheels.” 



26 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


u For my part, I truly believe that God 
is with us to-day, as He was with Moses 
and Aaron. We have but to look with 
the eyes of faith to see Him. As Moses 
was His agent then, so are men to-day 
His agents to work good on earth, else how 
could many things be that are, ’ ’ Grace said. 

It was after several persons, who entered 
into the discussion with enthusiasm, had 
related dreams which had afterward been 
fulfilled, that Grace surprised her hearers 
with the startling dream with which this 
chapter opens. 

The brother and sister of the host were 
silent, but close observers. The lips of 
each may have been seen to curl with 
incredulous scorn, as well as a shadow of 
jealousy to darken their faces, as, at last, 
their sister-in-law, in a sweet, pure tone, 
in well-chosen words and with the elo¬ 
quence that earnestness alone can impart, 
gave her reasons for the faith that was in 
her that held those grave men silent in 
admiration. 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


27 


* * That is the best sermon I have ever 
heard,” said one of the white-haired 
gentlemen to her. ‘ ‘ You chose a beauti¬ 
ful guiding spirit—Faith—and I feel that 
I, myself, am a wiser man, and may live 
nearer to God from this night. 

The hostess was visibly affected by 
these words, and tears of deep emotion 
stood a moment in her eyes. 

Verily the world is the same to-day as 
it was yesterday, as it will be to-morrow. 
“The thing that hath been, it is that 
which shall be; and that which is done is 
that which shall be done; and there is no 
new thing under the sun.” 

The same feelings of jealousy which 
prompted Joseph’s brethern to sell him 
into Egypt, burned in the hearts of the 
brother and sister toward 1 i that deceitful 
little dreamer,” as they designated Grace. 

When all the guests were gone, these 
two drew apart from Grace and her hus¬ 
band to have a little talk, “ over private 
family matters,” they said. 



28 


SAVED BY A DDE AM. 


“I cannot go with you to-morrow,’’ 
the brother said at once. “I have an 
important matter to attend to.” 

‘ 1 What ? Something that must have 
occnred to you suddenly,” she answered, 
half displeased, because he was to go with 
her upon a shopping expedition, and 
thereby she was always the gainer. 

“ Yes ; that hellish dream,” he said. 
“I’m filled with a nameless fear. Did 
you note the faithful picture she drew of 
her? Suppose she should find out — not 
all the demons of hell could stop her if 
she imagined herself appointed one of 
God’s agents to undo me. You under¬ 
stand ? ’ ’ 

“Yes;” said the sister, with terror 
in her face and with wide eyes, “ I had 
never thought of that.” 

“Nor I, until it came to me as she 
stood there in that stage attitude describ- 
ing a dream that set the nerves down my 
spine a twirling like the reptiles she 
described, and I feel that something must 



SAVED BY A DREAM . 


29 


be done. You know her—that ’ s enough. 
You go visiting to-morrow—I’ll attend 
to this, and Monday we will talk about 
shopping. 



CHAPTER II. 


THE DREAM REALIZED. 

‘ 1 Who enters here leaves hope behind. ’ ’ 
These were the words that rushed through 
Grace’s brain and seemed to be written in 
great flaming letters over the entrance to 
the asylum for the insane. She had 
guests visiting her from another State, to 
whom she was showing all the public 
eleemosynary institutions in and near the 
city. Nothing had the power to awaken 
within her soul the horror that a visit to 
an asylum for the insane had, and never 
had she been so impressed with this horror 
as upon this day when she seemed to see 
those words, written in blood and fire, 
writhe above the entrance like a great 
serpent in the tortures of on agonizing 
death. But she was ashamed to express 
her feelings and boldly mounted the steps 

30 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


31 


and rang the bell. It was the day for 
receiving visitors, and consequently every 
department being in order, there was no 
delay. It was not a new sight to her, she 
had upon several occasions accompanied 
curious visitors here upon their rounds of 
sight-seeing, and her chief aim was to 
avoid seeing those lack-lustre eyes, those 
disfigured faces, and to close her ears to 
the muttering voices about her. The 
resident physician accompanied them and 
paused politely now and then to point out 
some case of marked distinction from the 
rest. The dining-room, the corridors, the 
dormitories were all exquisitely neat, but, 
as I say, all this forced itself upon her, for 
she tried to see and hear nothing, so great 
had always been her terror of insane 
people and asylums for them; worse, far 
worse than some vast charnel-house, where 
bones lie rotting or bleaching, to this 
tomb of the living body without a soul, 
for such had an insane person always 
seemed to her. 




32 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


“This is the suicidal dormitory, where 
only suicides are kept,” said the doctor. 

She started involunterily as the physi¬ 
cian led them into this apartment, and 
made her first inquiry. 

“Why do you keep them together? I 
should think it a dangerous plan.” 

He smiled and said, “Oh, no! Were 
one to attempt suicide the rest of them 
would rise up and prevent it, while if a 
suicidal patient were among the harm¬ 
lessly insane they would sit silently 
looking on and not give an alarm.” 

She fell into a reverie and lagged be¬ 
hind, and they moved on without her. 
She was terrified, and lo! as she stood 
there she realized the location of her 
dream after the pale face had dispelled the 
horrible vision. Yes, here she was. The 
very corridor, and there was the light 
struggling through the windows that were 
barred with iron. Only the pale, pleading 
face was lacking. She stood rooted to the 
floor in terror; some one clutched her arm, 






















' 



































































SAVED BY A DREAM. 


33 


and, looking around, she found Herself 
alone with the picture of her dream, one 
of those soulless creatures. She would 
have cried out in her alarm, but she could 
not utter a sound. She turned cold as 
death and must h<ive startled the creature 
beside her, into whose face she could not 
gaze. 

“ Don’t be afraid of me, I am not crazy, 
but for God’s sake hear me or I shall go 
mad.” 

Something in the appeal touched Grace. 
She was afraid no longer. She knew 
these creatures were cunning, but surely 
there could be no wrong in listening to 
her. 

} U I am here, oh! so cruelly torn from 
my children—but have you a pencil and 
. paper? Quick, quick! Oh, God, I pray 
Thee for a moment to write it down.” 
She looked around cautiously ; they were 
alone in a corridor. Grace handed her a 
tablet and pencil, and she took it with the 
eagerness with which a man, perishing 



34 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


from thirst, might reach for a glass of 
water. She stooped down, or rather, 
crouched down, and wrote rapidly with a 
devouring eagerness, never failing to 
glance over her shoulder until Grace told 
her she would watch and warn her if any 
one approached, and when she had finished 
she rose up panting like one whose breath 
is spent in running and said: 4 ‘ Hide it 

in your bosom, read it in your room, and 
God bless you according to your efforts to 
help me out of this hell.” 

She had written much, it seemed, in 
this little while as she tore along with that 
eager, heart-bursting speed. Grace looked 
into her face. Surely she was insane. 
Her eyes were dilated and unnaturally 
bright. Her lips and nostrils quivered, 
and she still breathed in that panting 
way. 

“Iam not mad,” she said, seeming to 
read Grace’s thoughts. “I may be, if 
I must always stay here, but I am not 
now.” 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


35 


u Do you believe in the power of the 
almighty God, and that with Him all 
things are possible ? ” asked Grace. 

“I was a church-member in the world. 
I believed in Him, but why will He suffer 
such wickedness to be done as they have 
done to me if He can prevent it. I have 
almost lost all faith in Him.” 

1 ‘ That is far worse than anything which 
could have been brought upon you by 
anyone else. What they did to you He 
holds them responsible for. But your 
doubt, or disbelief, is your insult to Him 
and He will hold you to account. Yours 
is the greater sin. He has promised all 
things to those who trust Him. Did He 
not open the doors of Paul’s prison? He 
can open yours. Dare you disbelieve 
Him, and you have no right to expect 
His aid.” 

Grace spoke hurriedly, for she feared 
every instant they should be found out, 
and was so interested that each second was 
valuable. 



36 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


u If I can help you, I will. But do not 
be discouraged if it can not be quickly 
done. Do you believe that I will help 
you ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, yes, I do, and yet I fear. I 
grow hopeless. Yes, I believe you will 
try.” 

u Then, if you can believe in an erring 
human being that you have never seen 
before, you can surely believe in that 
great God of truth, love and mercy, even 
though you have never seen His face.” 

Grace did not know how he got there, 
but there was a strange man with a cruel 
face who thrust himself ^between them. 
He laid his hand rudely upon the woman’s 
shoulder and hurried her away. She cast 
one agonizing glance at Grace, as if to 
implore secrecy, or silence, or something, 
with those wild, strained eyes, and then 
he pushed her into a door, closed and 
locked it and turned toward Grace just as 
her friends came up accompanied by the 
doctor. 



SAVED BY A DREAM . 


37 


4 4 1 beg pardon; we did not discover you 
were not with us until a few moments 
ago,” he said, addressing Grace. 

44 1 found her being entertained by that 
crazy Clara,” said the man who had 
dragged the poor creature away. 

44 You are mistaken,” Grace said, with¬ 
out looking at him. 44 1 was dreadfully 
frightened when she approached me. It 
was I who was talking, you will remem¬ 
ber, when you came up.” 

As she had expected, he seemed relieved, 
but not convinced, and, as Grace now 
observed where they stood, she saw that 
he might have been concealed near them 
and heard their conversation. She was 
confirmed in this by the fact that he had 
appeared suddenly and no footfall had 
warned her. But, after all, what had he 
heard? The reader knows. And what 
was on that paper which was in her bosom? 
for she would not even trust it to her pocket. 

For a moment a silence reigned, and 
then the doctor asked if they were ready 




33 


SAVED BY A DDE AM. 


to depart. Grace was anxious—eager— 
to go, and said so, and, as she looked up, 
her eyes encountered those of that man, 
and she experienced a cold, creeping sen¬ 
sation down her back that extended to her 
limbs, and, for a moment, seemed to palsy 
her. She had seen him in the office where 
they had registered their names. Why 
did he look on as she wrote her name and 
then into her face, as though he might 
have cause, or wish, to remember her? 
What business had that man here? 

When they got out into the open air 
again Grace was most heartily rejoiced, 
for she had a feeling that she might be 
detained and searched and the writing 
found upon her, and it was not until the 
carriage had passed through the gate that 
she felt entirely safe. Then her fears 
vanished and she could almost laugh at 
them, but she kept her secret. She would 
tell it to no one, for her husband was out 
of the city on business, and she resolved 
to keep the secret inviolate until she had 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


39 


consulted him. Occasionaly during the 
drive she put her hand to her bosom to 
assure herself that the paper was safe. 



CHAPTER III. 


THE ABDUCTION. 

They reached home early. Grace 
ordered luncheon served at 12 sharp, as 
they intended to go out in the afternoon. 
It was not necessary to change their 
dresses, so she still found no opportunity 
to read the writing and left it undisturbed 
in her bosom. 

When she entered the parlor where her 
guests were, after she had given directions 
for dinner at 7 p.m., she found her hus¬ 
band s brother, who had arrived during 
her absence from the room. They were 
chatting pleasantly, and as he handed 
Grace a chair and greeted her in his usual 
charming way, they told her how they 
had been entertaining him with an 
account of their visit to the asylum, how 
they had lost her, how frightened they 

40 


SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


41 


were at the discovery, knowing how nerv¬ 
ous she was in the presence of those 
creatures, how they had hurried back, to 
find her alone in the corridor, and that a 
gentleman said she had been entertained 
by “Crazy Clara.” 

After this he fell into a serious study, 
and, pleasantly excusing himself, walked 
out into the yard. 

It was a pleasant morning early in June 
and the windows were open and they saw 
him passing slowly and sadly among the 
early flowers. 

“Is your brother-in-law a widower?” 
asked Grace’s unmarried guest, with an 
arch smile. 

“Unfortunately, no. The subject of 
your conversation was certainly a painful 
one to him, and one which should not 
have been broached had I been present. 
His wife is insane.” 

‘ ‘ Not in the asylum ? ’ ’ 

“Not where we were, no; but some¬ 
where in the East. She is incurable.” 



42 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


“How sad, how very sad,” said one. 

11 1 am so sorry we mentioned the sub¬ 
ject so lightly,’’ said another. 

Knowing how keenly sensitive he was, 
Grace deplored their having wounded him 
as much as they did, but confident they 
had done so ignorantly, she could do 
nothing but pardon them. 

At luncheon her brother-in-law ques¬ 
tioned Grace as to her plans for the after¬ 
noon. She told him she should do some 
shopping first, and then send the ladies 
home in time to rest before dressing for 
dinner, while she would go on the North 
Side for a short visit to her sister, who 
was slightly ailing. 

He seemed to listen attentively to her 
as though interested in her movements, 
and she asked: 

“Will you be with us to dinner, 
Arnold?” 

“No, thank you; I leave the city on 
the 7:30 east-bound train. When will 
Paul return?” 



SAVED BY A DREAM . 


43 


U I expect him to-morrow morning.” 

He was balancing his spoon thoughtfully 
upon the edge of his cup, and he seemed 
to start as if by some inward shock, and it 
dropped into the cup with a little splash 
that spattered the tea upon the lunch- 
cloth, for which he begged pardon. They 
all laughed and adjourned to don their 
hats for the drive. 

There was room for him in the carriage, 
and Grace invited him to accompany them 
into the city, which proved fortunate, in¬ 
asmuch as Grace found that before they 
had parted from him that she had left her 
purse. He would not hear of her return¬ 
ing for it, but drew his own from his 
pocket and thrust several large bills upon 
her. 

They were on the boulevard, and oc¬ 
casionally exchanged smiles of recogni¬ 
tion with friends. 

‘ ‘ Who was that handsome man whom 
you just recognized?” asked the younger 
lady of Grace. 



44 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


Before she could answer, Arnold said: 
u An old flame of Grace’s. Don’t you 
wonder that she should have taken a 
brother of mine for a husband, in prefer¬ 
ence to such an Appolo ? ’ ’ 

There was something in his voice and 
in the method of his speaking that 
irritated Grace, and she grew silent. She 
could not help it. It seemed unkind. 

“ He is certainly the most distinguished- 

looking man that I ever saw in C-,” 

continued the young lady. ‘ 4 What busi¬ 
ness has he?” 

“Attorney-at-law,” said Arnold, look¬ 
ing at Grace as though he wished to interest 
her, but she answered never a word. 
Heaven knows she little thought how 
much that sullen mood would cost her; 
how black it would appear against her; 
not only in the eyes that were now upon 
her, but to all the world. 

Her two children were to spend the 
summer vacation with her parents in a 
distant country village, and she should 




SAVED BY A DREAM . 


45 


travel with her husband North and East. 
Grace looked forward to the trip with 
eager pleasure, for her husband had never 
ceased to be her lover and most ardent 
admirer, and his pet name for her was 
“sweetheart” still. She made some 
trifling purchases for the children, such 
as a heavier pair of shoes apiece, more 
suitable for country wear; a couple of 
broad sunshades, that they might not 
return brown as nuts, and many other 
things that experience had taught her 
were essential during a vacation in the 
country for them. 

Her guests had made their purchases 
and she bade them good-bye as she stood 
at the carriage door. She had yet a few 
purchases to make for her little ones in 
the shape of bon-bons, and as they were 
exceedingly fond of wine crackers she 
stowed away a pound of them in her hand¬ 
bag, then taking a street car she went 
direct to her sister’s. 

It was yet early in the afternoon of a 



46 


SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


perfect June day. Her sister resided quite 
near the lake, and before going into the 
house Grace walked near and looked out 
upon its bright green waters. She had 
seen it stretch out one wide gray mist till 
it reached the horizon and blended so per¬ 
fectly that one could not tell w T here water 
ceased and sky began. But to-day the 
clear blue of the sky arched proudly above 
the bright green waters, which were 
dotted here and there with white sails. 
It cannot seem strange that she was some¬ 
what restless and nervous, and the feeling 
increased with the fatigue of shopping, for 
she was a delicate woman. 

There was something dream-like and 
unnatural in the day as she recalled her 
strange adventure of the morning. Noth¬ 
ing in her life experiences had ever 
approached the tragic or unreal, yet she 
was always so trustful and hopeful that 
her friends called her visionary. Grace’s 
was that kind of religion which sees God 
in all good things, in all truthful things, 



SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


47 


in all merciful tilings; and as slie stood 
alone looking out upon the green waters 
and blue sky, she was nearer her heavenly 
Father than she had been all day. v She 
thanked Him gratefully for His blessings 
to her, and prayed He would show her 
how to help the poor creature who had 
implored her aid that morning and a 
vision of whom in her misery He had 
given her in her dream. 

Did she have the faith with which she 
tried to inspire that poor creature ? Yes, 
she believed with all her heart that she 
might be immured in the darkest dungeon 
or carried under the sea or into the very 
bowels of the earth, and that even there 
His hand should lead her and His right 
hand should guide her. She might have 
been a Peter, perhaps she could not have 
been a Stephen, and yet I am just as 
sure that Grace never could have been a 
Thomas. There was never a cloud of 
doubt in her heart or brain. Whether 
she could face death for her faith I do not 



48 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


know. But He who sees our inmost 
thoughts knows how supremely Grace 
believed in His power and His promises 
to those who trust Him. 

Even here she could not draw the paper 
from her bosom and read it. She feared 
something, she could not tell what; not 
for herself, but for the safety of the 
wretched creature who gave it to her. 
She was glad she had given her the advice 
she had. She prayed God now to give 
the poor creature faith, which alone could 
keep reason enthroned. When she had 
somewhat calmed her excited nerves she 
went into her sister’s house. 

She found her very comfortable and able 
to chat with her, and, indeed, the time 
passed so pleasantly that it was time for 
Grace to return home before she was aware 
of it. She had occasion long afterward to 
remember the hour of six, when she 
hastily looked at her watch to compare it 
with her sister’s time. How she there 
wound and set it by her’s, her sister 








* 



















/ 






















* 




SAVED BY A DREAM . 


49 


earnestly pleading for her to stay with her 
till her husband came home. 

Grace kissed her once, twice, thrice (she 
was her senior by several years), and ran 
gaily down the stairs, calling back at her 
as she stood at the head of them looking 
after her, (1 to take good care of herself. ’’ 

It was Saturday afternoon, and every 
house seemed closed. Everybody was 
down in the city promenading or sight¬ 
seeing, or out on the boulevard driving. 
Grace remarked how devoid the street 
seemed of people, and attributed it to the 
above cause as she stood on the corner 
waiting for a car. 

She never knew how it was done, but 
in a twinkling, without warning by sight 
or sound, she was lifted off her feet. 
Everything was black before her, and she 
felt that something dark had been thrown 
over her head. She was literally carried 
a few feet and then thrust into a carriage, 
where strong hands bound and gagged her. 

She was too terrified to speak or cry out 



50 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


for a moment, now she could not; she 
was blindfolded and placed in the corner 
of the carriage ; she had not seen nor did 
her captors speak. She heard orders 
given to the driver, not to go so fast as to 
attract attention, and to make good time 
afterwards, in a loud whisper. 



CHAPTER IV. 

A MIDNIGHT JOURNEY. 

A thousand, yes, ten thousand thoughts 
rushed into Grace’s mind, and she was 
agonized by fear. Who was this man 
who had so silently and secretly rushed 
upon her and bound and blinded her and 
was evidently carrying her away ? 

She did not have so base an enemy in 
the world, she thought. Surely it was 
some one who intended to rob her and let 
her go. She had a handsome watch, a 
valuable diamond ring, and all the money 
but about ten dollars that her brother-in- 
law had loaned her. 

4 ‘Heavenly Father, Thou wilt not leave 
me, nor forsake me!” she cried in the 
depths of her anguished soul, and she felt 
that He would not. “ No, I will never 
leave thee, nor forsake thee,” came the 


51 


52 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


answer back, and her fainting heart grew 
stronger. 

The sense of feeling and sight thus cut 
off, the hearing became more acute, and 
she strained her ear to catch the sound of 
the roll of wheels to enable her to dis¬ 
tinguish what portion of the city they 
were in, or when they should leave the 
city. 

It is said that a woman’s instinct, or 
perceptions, are given her in lieu of per¬ 
fect knowledge. Grace seldom erred in 
the cardinal points when in a strange 
place, even when the sun was not shining. 
A something in her brain now, like a 
magnet, told her which was North. 

As the time passed on she was convinced 
they had left the city behind, and knew 
that she was being carried far from home. 
She dared not think of her home, her 
husband, her children. She kept her 
mind fixed on the only One who was all 
powerful to help her, and oh, if a 
frightened child ever clung to its parent’s 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


53 


hand in the darkness and felt, only near 
you I am safe, now did she cling to His 
precious promises. u Lord, deliver me 
from mine enemies,” she cried in her 
soul. 

It must have been several hours after¬ 
ward that she experienced a peculiar sen¬ 
sation, an unnatural heaviness, not 
drowsiness, but her senses seemed to be 
stolen away, and the power, or inclination, 
to speak was gone. She still realized her 
situation, yet she became indifferent to it. 
Surely this was death. The carriage 
seemed to have stopped, but she was 
going on. 

' She heard a low, soft laugh that was 
not strange to her. A slight tremor made 
her muscles quiver like an electric shock, 
but still she retained that acute conscious¬ 
ness. She mentally prayed that she 
might retain it until death, if that was 
what awaited her ; but the agonizing suf¬ 
fering was abated inasmuch as she ceased 
to care what her fate might be. In other 



54 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


words, she knew she was alone with 
villains. 

She realized that they were taking her 
away from her home and family, but her 
heart seemed to beat slowly and heavily, 
there was no sensation of pain or regret. 
She had no part with them in life any 
more. Everything dear and tender 
seemed fading or floating from her. One 
thing, one only, did she realize was nec¬ 
essary ; which was to keep her mind fixed 
upon God’s promises—to hold on to her 
heavenly Father’s hand. 

‘ ‘ Though I walk through the valley of 
the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for 
Thou art with me.” 

Such words came as clearly through her 
brain as though her other senses were not 
stealing away from her. Sight nor sound 
disturbed her any longer; no joy, no sor¬ 
row could rouse her. Were she unbound, 
she could not walk; unblinded, she could 
not see; no longer gagged, she could not 
talk. She now felt her captor remove the 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


55 


cords from her hands and the gag. Then 
it was she had heard him laugh the laugh 
she had heard before; but it mattered little 
to her now who it was. Ah, no! she was 
drifting out upon a sea, further, further 
away —whither ? 

“She’s safe enough now,” said the 
voice that had laughed. 4 ‘Are we in time 
to catch the west-bound train ? ’ ’ 

u Yes; and everything is in readiness. 
The sleeper is prepared. I told them that 
you’re taking your sick sister to Colorado. 

You’ll change cars in St. L-, or stop 

off to rest; just as you please—ha, ha! ” 
She had never heard that laugh, and 
yet its tone recalled something of interest 
that was floating also from her. What 
was it ? Where was it ? She had seen a 
face that matched that voice. She tried to 
move, but could not lift her hand; but then 
why should she care; just so she did not 
lose her Father’s hand in the darkness, 
she was not and would not be afraid. 
Surely now she was on the train and she 





56 


SAVED BY A DREAM . 


was alone, but sbe could not see uor feel, 
but alone, surely alone, save with her 
God, on a surging sea. She felt the 
motion, like waves, rising and falling, but 
going ceaselessly forward. On the fast 
mail or limited express—no halt; straight 
through. 

Once or twice she was conscious of a 
presence, as though some one came and 
looked at her, felt her pulse and there was 
a hand on her brow. That hand was not 
a strange hand, it belonged to the first 
laugh she had heard that was not a strange 
laugh, but whose hand it was she could 
not now recall. The same influence came, 
keen consciousness of her situation, but 
indifference, and, after the hand had left 
her pulse she seemed floating through the 
air, oh, so light and free, there was no¬ 
body to hold her fast, she was etheral— 
something lay on the pillow. It was not 
her weary head and tired brain, they 
were balanced in some kind of sweet, 
'intoxicating air. 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


57 


On, on, not dashing like a railroad train, 
but floating in the dreamy air or rolling 
on the waves of a billowy sea. But where 
was she now? She had dropped her 
Father’s hand; she was wandering alone 
with those two. u Father, Heavenly 
Father, come back tome,” she cried, in 
her soul, and reached out in her anguish. 
Her hands obeyed her will, and she passed 
one of them over a face, a face not 
strange, a face that belonged to the voice 
that had laughed, and to the hand that 
had been upon her pulse and brow. 

It was only an instant that she realized 
she was again in a carriage and going 
over roads where rapid transit was impos¬ 
sible ; then the air was again laden with 
that subtle something that quickened her 
perception, her consciousness, and dead¬ 
ened feeling or resistance. 

She did not know how long it was. 
She thought she must have lost conscious¬ 
ness in sleep or some way, for she had 
dropped a link somewhere. She could 



58 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


not recall when she was taken from the 
train and put into the carriage. It was 
still dark to her. After a long time it 
seemed the carriage paused, and a short 
conversation took place. 

“We will get out here. Have you the 
rope? It is only a short distance; we 
can carry her there.’’ 

“I am to be hanged,” Grace thought. 
“Oh, joy! These wretches cannot harm 
me when I’m dead, but Oh, my husband! 
Oh, my loved ones! Never more to meet 
on earth and they, perhaps, think I have 
deserted them.” 

Human hearts cannot burst with sor¬ 
row, else hers had burst then. 

She was borne along and laid upon the 
ground, the rope was fastened under her 
arms. So she was not to be hanged after 
all, and now each instant seemed an age. 
Imagine her horror when one of the ruf¬ 
fians said: 

“And, faith, why can’t I have the 
watch and her purse, and the diment 






•• ::y 




Vv*'-‘ ‘ s ' 


jiip 

tagiifli■ 








mw 










































































































* 




















































' 










SAVED BY A DREAM. 


59 


ring,” in a broad, Irish accent, that she 
bad beard before. 

“Fool! Would yon keep a sign to 
bang ns? No; let ber keep wbat sbe 
bas, let all be buried together. She will 
wake up down there and have a chance to 
exercise that wonderful faith sbe bas 
preached to others. n 

She realized something. She could 
not speak. Her heart was bursting, she 
knew she was to die. To be let down 
into some pit or well. 

She clutched wildly about and tore the 
coat of one of them, and felt papers fall 
therefrom. Ah, they were lowering her. 
Then there burst from her lips such a 
wild, piercing, agonizing scream as mor¬ 
tal never uttered before. She heard an 
awful oath. She fell. They had dropped 
her into the abyss below. She had lost 
her Father’s hand again. 




CHAPTER V. 


A NIGHT IN A CAVE. 

She could not tell how long she lay 
there senseless. When she became con¬ 
scious she thought, 11 how much better had 
I died thus than to be awakened to the 
horrors I must endure.’’ The whole 
adventure seemed a horrible dream, a 
dreadful nightmare from which she could 
not awaken. Death, horrible and relent¬ 
less, alone could end her sufferings now, 
for she was evidently in some abandoned 
coal pit, or well; God only, and those 
villains, knew where. 

Oh, the agony of that slowly-returning 
consciousness. She was bruised and 
bleeding from the fall, but, with all its 
horrors, she preferred this grave to the 
companionship of those wretches. The 
thought of her husband, her children, her 


60 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


6l 

parents, came like burning arrows in her 
soul, and, at last, she got upon her knees 
and called upon our heavenly Father to 
redeem His pledge. She avowed her 
faith in His power to move those rocks 
and part them in two walls, as He had 
done the Red Sea for the Children of 
Israel. She said: “Lord, I believe 
Thou knowest I believe. Now is the 
time for Thy promise to be fulfilled, T 
will never leave thee nor forsake thee.’ n 
Reader, He was there; there in the 
darkness, there in the gloom, and she 
felt His spirit upon her. She grew 
calmer, reason came; at last He spoke 
the “Peace, be still,” and the wild, rag¬ 
ing billows were quelled. She reached 
out her hand and cried, “Father, Thou 
hast heard me and art come. I know 
Thy presence, I will fear no evil; if Thou 
art for me, who can be against me?” At 
last the tears came. Oh, those blessed 
tears! They seemed to cool her brain 
and loose the band about her heart; she 



62 


SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


knew that God was with her; blessed 
Jesus had interceded. 

Grace had never experienced such a 
holy peace, such perfect love. It said to 
her, “Thou wilt not die here and alone. 
The wicked have dug the pit they, 
themselves, shall fall into. Thy home 
and thy friends thou shalt see again in 
God’s good time. Thou shalt be an in¬ 
strument in God’s hands to work to others 
a great good. Be patient and long en¬ 
during.” “Lord, as Thou wilt,” she 
answered, as though a voice had spoken 
to her. 

Presently, a voice within her said, 
“Whysittest thou here idle? Rise up, 
behold thy prison.” She had buried 
her face in her hands while the tears 
came, and, shall I tell you, washed the 
seals from her eyes which blinded her. 
In rubbing her eyes this substance, which 
felt like oil silk, or a film of something, 
came off in her hand, and she carefully 
preserved it. 



SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


63 

Of course, all was darkness. Looking 
above her bead, a ray of light, like a star, 
shone afar off. “I must be very far be¬ 
low the surface; and, yet, how could that 
be when they let me fall or threw me 
down,” she thought. Yet, she concluded 
this must be true, and that our heavenly 
Father only had prevented her from be¬ 
ing killed in the fall. 

She drew out her watch. It was still 
running. She had wound it at six yes¬ 
terday; it could not be ten to-night, else 
it had run down. So she wound it (it 
was a stem-winder), and as she did this 
the thought struck her to strike a match, 
she always carried a silver case with 
matches in one end and little wax tapers 
in the other, in her pocket. It was an 
unique gift one Christmas from her 
brother-in-law. 

“How little did he imagine where I 
should have occasion to need them first,” 
she thought. “Alas! that it should be his 
hand that had bestowed this gift, a great 



6 4 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


boon, indeed, upon me now.” But God 
bad only made him tbe instrument, as we 
shall see. She bad no difficulty in find¬ 
ing tbe case nor in lighting tbe taper, 
which would burn ten minutes. She 
tried to rise up, tbe better to survey her 
surroundings, but her feet were bound. 
It was but tbe work of a moment to sever 
tbe cord with a knife, while she sat tbe 
taper in its little bolder on tbe ground. 

It was a strange sight which met her 
gaze. She could not see far, of course, 
with her taper, but she grouped along tbe 
wall, and concluded that she was not in a 
well, but in a cave of solid rock, bow 
large and deep she could not tell. Her 
watch told her it was only twenty-four 
hours since she bad left her sister’s bouse. 
Of course, her mind dwelt now upon 
escape. If this was, indeed, a cave, it 
must have some egress at tbe foot of tbe 
bill, as well as tbe opening through which 
they bad thrown her from above. Of one 
fact she was aware; it was not a coal pit, 







ill 





.y 


■m 


■ 































- * 

























































































■ • 



























































































































SAVED BY A DREAM . 


65 


but one of those caves which abound in 
the West, and in some portions of the 
State of Ohio. Yet, she did not believe 
she was anywhere in Ohio, for the reason 
her captors had spoken of the West. She 
believed that she was somewhere in the 
wild, unsettled portion of Missouri. Her 
brain worked fast and her heart beat fast 
as her taper burned low. “I wonder 
how many of these tiny blessings I have,” 
said she, sitting down to count them. 
Only twenty-four, twenty-three now, that 
she had burned one. 

u Night is coming on. I am safe here 
with God, ’ ’ she said reverently. ‘ ‘ I must 
try to rest.” So she laydown on the 
ground, to rest and sleep, holding on to 
her Father’s hand. 

She slept, she dreamed, oh, such a 
heavenly dream. Her children’s arms 
were around her neck, her husband’s kiss 
upon her lips. Father, mother, sister, 
and another—“ Crazy Clara,” free and 
happy — all were gathered about her. It 




66 


SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


seemed a long time that she had slept and 
dreamed, when suddenly she awoke and 
started to her feet. A consciousness of her 
true position rushed over her and her 
heart heat wildly. There was a roar, a 
scream, a crash, as though the rocks were 
falling around her. 

u Father in heaven be with me!” she 
cried. What was it? She could not 
stand; the earth trembled. She thought 
of earthquakes, and then that this cave 
might be a den of wild beasts. But no! 
She had God’s promise; she would not 
fear. Daniel had been in the lions’ den 
unhurt and unharmed. She might be 
here with wild beasts; if she held on to 
her Father’s hand He would lead her. 
But whence came that shriek, that mad 
roar, the quivering earth? There it was 
again. Holy Father! She dropped on 
her knees in ecstatic joy. It was a rail¬ 
road train. But her joy turned to fear as 
the thought came, u Those wretches have 
put me into a tunnel. ’ ’ A sickening horror 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


67 


crept over her. She sank low down upon 
her very face, half expecting to be suddenly 
crushed or whirled away. 

“ O thou of little faith—” 

The whisper was enough. No, not 
that; God was with her. “ O, Father, I 
believe; help, Thou, mine unbelief.” 
The sound died away. She prostrated 
herself in humblest manner for her fears, 
which seemed like doubt, and took a firmer 
hold of her Father’s hand. 



CHAPTER VI. 


THE ESCAPE. 

“If this was indeed a railroad train 
there is surely an opening in this cave in 
that direction for it acted like a trumpet¬ 
receiving sound. No railroad whistle in 
open air ever screamed like that or thun¬ 
dered on with such a crash and roar. The 
opening must be very near the track,’’ 
she said. She lighted a taper and found 
she had only slept an hour. It was eight 
o’clock. Now for the first time this 
thought struck her. She would light 
half a dozen tapers at once that she might 
see better her surroundings. Having 
done so it was a weird sight that met her 
view, and she would have frightened her 
own husband, perhaps, had he seen her 
with her long disheveled hair in that 
grim vault. 


68 



SAVED BY A DREAM . 


69 


It was larger than her largest room at 
home. ‘ 1 Ah, what was that ? A ladder, 
as I live; made of poles with rungs of 
poles of lesser size, and there, not far 
away, a hatchet, the very tool, perhaps, 
with which the workman wrought. ’ ’ She 
clasped her hands, and raising her eyes 
towards heaven, that heaven which was 
hidden from her bodily sight, but which 
she knew existed and could see far better 
in this crude ladder than she had ever 
seen it on earth, with eyes of faith to 
that God who was with her, giving her 
courage, strength, and hope. She tested 
the strength of the rungs—they were 
secure. She went to the further end from 
where she stood and raised it without 
difficulty. 

Her tapers showed her where she had 
fallen, she would raise the ladder and 
ascend. It must have been fully thirty 
feet in length. She pulled and pushed, 
and then offering a supplication for 
strength, which she knew was given her 



7 o 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


from above; after a while she had the joy 
of feeling that one end of the ladder stood 
firmly on the ground beside her, and the 
other lay as firmly against one side of the 
wall above. She could see light, but a 
mere speck, that had seemed to her a star 
that night. 

They had doubtless covered the open¬ 
ing. Our Heavenly Father would open 
it for her. She was so overjoyed that she 
wept and prayed by turns, and then sat 
down in the dark again (for her tapers 
were burned out) to seek guidance which 
she doubted not would be given to her. 
Surely God was near her and was guiding 
her. She knew how helpless she was 
without Him. “Lord, do with me as 
Thou wilt,” she said. “Make me say, 
‘Thy will be done.’ ” 

“ Possess thy soul in patience, wait till 
the morrow; rise up; behold thy prison. 
All thou findest shall be thine; seek.” 

She could not have been dreaming, and 
yet she seemed to hear these words in 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


71 


sleep. But, filled with faith, she lighted 
six more tapers, for she remembered the 
five loaves and two fishes, and He who 
could feed five thousand thus, could 
multiply her tapers, or else could show 
her all there was in the cave to be seen by 
the light of those she had. She had felt 
no thirst or hunger, therefore she refrained 
from touching the crackers and confections 
she had. 

She lit the tapers and searched dili¬ 
gently, leaving one to guide her back to 
her starting point, which was always the 
place where she had fallen. She now 
observed some papers on the ground; 
envelopes, evidently letters which she had 
torn from the pocket of her captor in her 
last struggle at the top, when her screams 
had caused them to pitch her, instead of 
letting her down with the ropes. 

“ I must wait for daylight somewhere, 
sometime, to read these letters which 
might give me a clue to the identity of 
my captors. n She put them into her 



72 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


bosom with the letter of that poor creature, 
who little imagined where she was. She 
thought many thoughts as she walked 
carefully with a taper in either hand look¬ 
ing for something, she knew not what, 
she knew it was there, a great gift bestowed 
upon her by the words she had heard and 
by the power that had guided her; there¬ 
fore she looked confidently. 

There it was; she saw it. She walked 
over to where it was—two boxes of tin 
and a bag of buckskin filled as though 
with shot. She opened it, and to her 
joy found it to be gold coins of large 
denominations. She lifted it; it was very 
heavy. Then she sat down to examine 
the tin boxes, and found them tightly 
packed with well preserved greenbacks, 
one of large, the other of smaller denomi¬ 
nations. 

Then she fell into a reverie over these 
things and waited to receive inspiration 
how to carry it away, “for it is mine; 
given me for some good purpose,” she said 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


73 


fervently. She emptied the crackers and 
confections and filled the bag with the 
yellow coin, and then, when she had done 
that, she still had the boxes of greenbacks. 

A happy thought struck her and she 
laughed aloud. She extinguished all the 
tapers but two, she must economize now. 
She took the rope and made the green¬ 
backs into a bustle. She did not put it 
on, but she took it to the opening at the 
foot of the ladder and then sat down to 
wait for the next train, that she might 
time them. In the morning, if the Lord 
was willing, and with his divine assist¬ 
ance, she would ascend once more and see 
the light of day. 

She prayed and lay down to sleep and 
slept long and soundly* She dreamed 
that she must arise and prepare for her 
journey. She did so without hesitation. 
She took off her dress and put on the val¬ 
uable bustle. She tore her handkerchief 
in twain to wrap the rope over her shoul¬ 
ders, and when she was dressed she 



74 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


straightened her hat, which had been 
battered in the fall, put it on and tied her 
veil around her neck, and lighting a taper 
and consulting her watch, she saw that it 
was 5:30 o’clock. She put some of the 
crackers into the pocket of her jacket, 
took that gold-laden bag and began the 
ascent, not without a prayer for help. 

The ladder had evidently not been made 
for women, for the rungs were wide apart. 
Twice only did she rest on the journey 
upward, and when she sat upon the last 
rung, she saw that the top was, as she had 
suspected, covered, not with a stone, as she 
feared, but with sticks and leaves, which 
she pushed away, and reaching her bag 
up and placing it on the ground, she 
raised herself up, and putting her hands 
on the firm earth, planted her feet on the 
last rung, and, trembling, raised herself 
out of the abyss; but something said to 
her: “The hatchet! bring that.” 

She dare not disobey the voice. Should 
she leave her precious bag above or carry 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


75 


it back. She reached out, heaped the 
leaves and sticks over it and waited a 
moment for a second bidding—if the 
order be to carry it back, she would obey. 
It came not, and she descended, found the 
hatchet, wondering what she must do with 
it—use it as a weapon of defense, or how? 
—but the information would come. 

She climbed up more easily now than 
she had done before, for, sticking the 
handle of the hatchet in her belt, she had 
the use of both arms, and again she found 
herself on terra Jirma . There was her 
gold bag. She looked down into the 
opening, deep, dark and silent. It gave 
no answer back. 

She lay sticks closely upon it and 
covered it with leaves, but fearing some 
cow or horse might fall therein, although 
only two lengths of the hatchet handle 
across, she placed a broad, flat stone over 
it, evidently the original covering, which 
those men had removed; and, with the 
corner of the hatchet, wrote her initials 
and the date thereon. 



CHAPTER VII. 


GRACH READS THE MYSTERIOUS PAPER. 

The birds sang gaily; there was no 
other sound to greet her lonely ears. 
“ Whither shall I go?” she asked. “To 
the East; follow the sun.” She obeyed 
the still small voice, and turned her face 
towards the bright spot that seemed like 
the Saviour’s face. She walked rapidly 
away. “Now use your hatchet; mark 
the trees.” 

She drew the weapon from her girdle. 
As she walked she peeled off long strips 
of bark which left a white mark to be seen 
quite a distance. ‘ ‘ Now I know why the 
command was given, in part,” she said. 

Eater I shall know better.” Ear away 
in the distance she saw smoke, and turn¬ 
ing to the left she beheld, running at the 
foot of the hill, the railroad track. Going 

76 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


77 


down towards it she marked many trees, 
and looking np and down the track she 
discovered, not over two hundred feet 
away, a flag station. 

She ran to it, carrying her hatchet now 
as if for defense. The keeper of the sta¬ 
tion-house looked keenly at her as she 
approached. She should have been afraid 
of him but for the hatchet and the knowl¬ 
edge that the train was coming—whew-w, 
it whistled. She stepped upon the plat¬ 
form, and it came driving down upon them 
just as she had pulled her veil down over 
her face, took up her hatchet and satchel. 

How she got on that train she never 
knew. It stopped only like a bird poising 
in the air, but she was safe. When the 
conductor came around she asked him 

when the train reached St. L-. He 

looked at her closely and said: u We are 
due at 9:30.” 

“ Will you tell me the last station before 
I got on, and the number of the mile-post 
at the flag-station ? ’ * she asked 




78 


SAVED BY A DREAM . 


He did so and passed on. 

Soon as possible she went into the 
toilet-room for the purpose of seeing her 
own face again, to know what traces fear 
and suffering had left. She bathed her 
face, neck, and hands. She looked hag¬ 
gard and years older it seemed to her. 
She did not venture leaving her veil off, 
but tied it closely over her face. 

Her dress-skirt was somewhat soiled 
and the plaiting torn in several places. 
But she brushed it thoroughly, and with 
a few pins made herself look quite neat. 
She returned to her seat, and first placing 
her precious hatchet on her lap, took the 
more precious bag of gold, thus hiding it. 
Now, this bag was not such as ladies use 
to-day. It was more like a small valise, 
into which she could stow away quite a 
good deal. She had, when traveling, 
carried a suit of clothes for both her 
children in it. 

The train was going at a high rate of 
speed through a wild, rocky region of 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


79 


country. She looked frequently at her 
watch—they were nearing the great 
metropolis. She had mapped out her 
course. She should go at once to a 
responsible hotel; after a light breakfast 
she should buy another suit from hat to 
boots, and then wait for guidance. 

A porter at the hotel offered to take her 
valise, but she would allow it to pass into 
no one’s hands, knowing that it’s great 
weight would excite suspicion. 

“Will you register?” he asked, lead¬ 
ing the way to the clerk’s office. 

“No, if you please; I shall probably 
take an evening train,” she answered. 

“Then you will have no other bag¬ 
gage?” he said. 

“No; give me a room and send my 
breakfast there,” she said. 

Having partaken of a light breakfast, 
she cautiously locked the door (having 
put her valise and the greenback bustle in 
the wardrobe and locked the door and put 
the key in her pocket) and repaired to one 



8o 


SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


of the largest dry goods stores, where she 
bought some under-clothing and a simple 
suit of brown linen, which was suitable 
for street wear or traveling at that season. 

She would not have the goods sent to 
the hotel for she would give no name, so 
she carried her large parcels and hired a 
small boy to fetch a great valise which 
she had bought, in which to stow the suit 
which she now wore, her new purchases 
of lingerie and the bustle. 

Once safely in her room again, she 
breathed a sigh of relief, for she was fear¬ 
ful of being seen by someone who might 
recognize her, and the time for that was 
not come. Almost immediately upon her 
return, she turned the water on in the 
bath-room adjoining her bed-room, and 
begun to undress. 

When she took off her corset, the let¬ 
ters and papers fell to the floor, and, for 
the first time, she saw the address. The 
handwriting she knew, oh, so well! The 
name she knew. Oh, God!—Her head 



SAVED BY A DDE AM. 


8 l 


reeled, and from one of the papers dropped 
a gold ring and rolled upon the floor. A 
ring she had often seen upon a hand she 
loved so well. “ Was that the hand that 
had sealed my eyes that I might not see 
his face ? Was that the man who laughed 
the laugh I remembered well?” she said, 
sinking down upon the floor. No, no, 
no! These letters so interested her that 
she did not read Crazy Clara’s scrawl in 
her trembling fear, but lay them all in 
one package, the ring, too, which could be 
identified by many Free Masons; there 
was the name and the Latin inscription 
and the figures 32° on the outside. She 
made them into a neat package, and, 
when she had taken her bath and dressed 
herself, she put them again in her bosom. 



CHAPTER VIII. 


GRACE CONSULTS AN ATTORNEY. 

I must not omit to say that it seemed 
that since Grace got on the railroad train 
she had let go of our Heavenly Father’s 
hand, and began to rely upon her own 
puny strength. In other words, she was 
not in the dark and, therefore, child-like, 
was not so much afraid; while, indeed, 
she was in far more peril than she had 
been while in the cave. She thought now 
of this with shame, and for the first time 
since her deliverance fell upon her knees 
and prayed for guidance. 

An error now would be fatal, for well 
she knew the man who put her in that 
cave, one of the last people that a few 
days ago she would have accused of sin, 
much less crime, would not scruple to 
murder her now did he chance to know of 


82 



' SAVED BY A DREAM. 


83 


her existence. If he, without cause that 
she could tell, would doom her to so hor¬ 
rible a death as starvation away from home 
and friends, when he knew she did not 
suspect him of any crime, now, if he knew 
that she was free, with evidence against 
him, what would he not do? 

She sat there wondering what she 
should do. She knew that no rational 
person ever commits a crime without a 
motive. What was the motive in this 
case? She failed to find it in these let¬ 
ters. They only seemed to identify him 
and were written by his sister, from whom 
she had letters ; so, although they were 
signed only by her given name, Grace 
could swear to them. 

She never really had liked her sister-in- 
law; there was something hidden and 
secret about her always that had repulsed 
Grace. She was envious and jealous, 
Grace knew, and once, a long time before, 
there had been a quarrel between her 
brothers, brought about by some of her 



8 4 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


tale-bearing. Grace had never respected 
her since then. She knew she hated her 
brothers’ wives and never failed to put in 
her wedge to pry them apart if she saw 
the least crevice wherein to insert her 
malice. 

The guiding spirit seemed to return to 
Grace after her prayer, and now came the 
suggestion that she read ‘ ‘ Crazy Clara’s ’ ’ 
writing. 

She sprang to her feet as though a 
bombshell had exploded near her, when 
she read the first few words. 

“Ah, here was the motive! I had 
talked to that poor creature and had his se¬ 
cret. Had he known I had had those words 
in my bosom, doubtless a pistol or dagger 
would have done deadly work before he 
threw me into the cave.” 

“What shall I do?” 

“Consult an attorney, immediately; 
lay all the facts before him, with ring and 
Crazy Clara’s statement.” It was a con¬ 
cise statement of the woman’s name and 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


85 


age, adding that she was unlawfully 
immured in the assylum by her husband 
and sister-in-law, in order that he might 
get possession and entire control of her 
property, and she prayed that some 
investigation be made into the case and 
she be set free before she was indeed driven 
mad by her anxiety and fear. 

It would seem to the reader most nat¬ 
ural, I suppose, that Grace should go at 
once to her home, her husband and her 
children, but there was something to be 
done, something to be known. She had 
a few acquaintances in this city, and she 
knew something of the most reputable 
attorneys. There was one, a rising star, 
of the first magnitude. He was her hus¬ 
band’s friend. She would send for him. 
She rang for a messenger, and wrote a 
note like this: 

T - R - Attomey-at-Law: 

Please call immediately at S-Hotel. 

In an incredibly short time she was in 
receipt of a card stating that this gentle- 





86 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


man awaited Her in the parlor below. 

She found him alone, pacing the room 
with rapid strides. When she entered, 
he caught sight of her in a mirror oppo¬ 
site, and whirled round as if thrown by 
some violent motion. He came toward 
her, his face all aglow with excited joy. 
Great tears came welling up, and Grace 
stood rooted to the floor, unable to take 
the two outstreched hands before her. 

11 How like guilt this is, ’ ’ was whispered 
in her ear, and Grace, raising her head, 
proudly held out her hand. 

The attorney took it cordially and led 
her to a sofa, and Grace begun in a 
trembling voice: 

“ Have you seen my husband? ” 

“No; all I know I have gathered from 
the newspapers. Of course, you know 
how far from truth their most correct re¬ 
ports usually are.” 

“Tell me what you know, 5 ’ she said. 

He looked at her calmly, and said, 
“My dear madame, I know nothing, as 



SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


87 


you must be aware. I supposed you sent 
for me to tell me.” 

“I see,” said Grace, smiling sadly, 
“howfoolish I was. My anxiety to hear 
what my husband thought prompted the 
question. I will tell you everything that 
has happened to me the last three days.” 
She began and related to her astonished 
listener every circumstance so vividly 
that he seemed to see it all. 

“Now, to show yon the motive, read 
these letters, and then advise me, for we 
must act promptly, not only for my own 
dear husband’s sake, but for the sake of 
this poor creature, whose every written 
word I now believe.’’ 

The attorney read the words of Crazy 
Clara, then the sister-in-law’s letters, 
and, lastly, examined the ring. 

“My husband always wore it,” said 
Grace, referring to the ring, “and is in 
the habit of slipping it off and putting it 
in his pocket when he bathes. This was 
in the man’s pocket which, in my desper¬ 
ate effort, I tore loose.” 



88 


SAVED BY A DREAM . 


“It is certainly the most villainous 
piece of business that ever came under 
my observation. As you say, we must 
act promptly. You have acted wisely in 
keeping so carefully every link of the 
chain. We must forge each one.’’ 

c 1 1 want you to see this money that I 
found in the cave.” 

“No, not now. You could not safely 
bring it here ; I could not prudently go to 
your parlor. You must have the protec¬ 
tion of } our father. I cannot risk a tele¬ 
gram. I will take his address and leave 
on the first train. Have him come here, 
and we three, with an officer of the law, 
will go to the pit wherein you were thrown. 
Then we will have the foundation. They 
believe you dead (your would-be mur¬ 
derers) and will make no efforts to escape. 
While believing this, one of them is busy 
trying to blast your fair name.” 

Grace rose to her feet with dilated eyes. 

‘ 1 How—how dare he ? ’ y 
“ You remember meeting an old friend 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


89 


when driving on the boulevard that after¬ 
noon? A certain lawyer? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ Business called that gentleman away 
that very evening. The newspapers 
hinted at the fact in connection with your 
disappearance.” 

Grace groaned and sank back into her 
chair. 

“My husband?” ' 

“He has refused to be interviewed, but 
the blow has fallen heavily upon him,” 
said the lawyer in a softened voice, watch¬ 
ing her with pitying eyes. 

“However, this morning’s paper con¬ 
tains a contradiction of that report. The 
gentleman, as soon as he heard the rumor, 
made all his movements known, and 
denied having any knowledge of your 
whereabouts. 

“You must not leave this hotel, or your 
room, until I return with your father, lest 
some one recognize you. Although a 
very poor likeness, several pictures of you 



90 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


and full descriptions have been printed, 
and .rewards have been offered by your 
husband, who believed you had fallen into 
evil hands. It will save you annoyance. 
I will secure you the newspapers and you 
can amuse yourself with them until I 
return with your good father. Be hope¬ 
ful, be cheerful. It will all be well in a 
few days. The scheme was laid for a 
double purpose, and we must foil the 
enemy and trap them in their own pit.” 

He left her and soon returned with the 
daily papers, and then bade her good-bye, 
saying he would go direct to her father’s. 



CHAPTER IX. 


A VISIT TO THE CAVE. 

Grace went to her room upon her visi¬ 
tor’s departure and there read the 
sensational reports of her disappearance. 
One called it, “ The supposed flight of a 
married woman with an old lover.” 
Another, U A sensational elopement in 
high life.” All of which, while it fired 
Grace’s indignation, could not be com¬ 
pared with her anxiety to see how her 
husband bore the blow. 

“The abandoned husband bowed down with 
grief refuses to talk. He stoutly maintains his 
wife’s innocence and believes she has been foully 
dealt with.” 

Then followed a conglomeration, in 
which the “reporter” seemed to be of 
the greatest importance—his way of 
obtaining the information, than the in- 


91 


92 


SAVED BY A DREAM . 


formation itself. Finally, the last paper, 
in which the brother of the frantic 
husband is interviewed: 

“ Mr. Arnold Norwood was seen by your cor¬ 
respondent this morning. He says his brother 
is crazed with grief and shame. He has just 
returned from a trip East, and went direct to 
his brother’s house.” 

Grace threw down the paper and paced 
the room with restless, nervous tread. 

u Oh, how can I stay here one hour. I 
must go to him. I must indeed,’’ she 
cried, but the still small voice whispered: 

“ God’s instruments must bide His 
time. His hand could open Crazy Clara’s 
prison-door and make her free, but igno¬ 
rant mortals would incarcerate her again. 
You must wait and by the earthly tribunal 
see that she is adjudged sane. 

“ Jehovah could have led the children 
of Israel out of bondage, but He chose to 
make Moses His agent to do that work. 
He even conceded to Moses, who pleaded 
his inability to eloquent speech, the 



SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


93 


privilege of using Aaron as a mouth¬ 
piece. Is not the God who interferes in 
Crazy Clara’s behalf, and would lead her 
out of bondage, the same who commanded 
Moses? Thou art God’s agent.” 

u Oh, blessed privilege! Oh, honor 
indeed is mine, that I may serve the 
Lord!” Grace, finding a Bible upon her 
table, sat down to read of those wondrous 
things and, closing it, compared the past 
with the present, and said: 

“It is, indeed, the same. God liveth 
and reigneth forever the same to-day as 
yesterday, and shall be forever more. 
His hand we may see in all good and 
merciful things. What care I that men 
call me vile names, and say that I fled 
from my husband? God has been with 
me every hour. In His own good time 
He will vindicate my name.” 

Strange as it may seem, Grace made 
no plans. She only prayed for wisdom, 
and waited. No doubt crossed her mind 
of the ultimate success of the whole 



94 


SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


matter. For it was God’s matter. She 
was God’s agent. He would find work 
for her to do and tell her how to do 
it and when to do it. She must 
exercise patience. Her father lived 
only fifty miles from here, so it was only 
a short distance by rail, and, at noon the 
next day, she was folded in his arms. 

The attorney had told her parents all, 
so there was no need of explanation on 
her part, but the old gentleman, when he 
had embraced her, held her out at arm’s 
length and said: ‘ ‘ Let me look and see 
again. It is one of God’s mercies that 
you are here alive. My own tender, lov¬ 
ing child. Why, the fright, the chloro¬ 
form, the fall, a night in that dark cave 
would have killed any other woman.” 

“Not with my faith, father. He was 
with me every moment, and oh, how fast 
I clung to His hand.” 

“That’s it, my dear, that’s the ^secret 
of your power. Now, Mr. Attorney, let 
us to work,” said the old man, rubbing 
















































































































































































































SAVED BY A DREAM. 


95 


his hands. ‘ ‘ By the eternal— they shall 
smart for this.” 

“First,” said the attorney, “I must 
secnre some trusty officers of the law. 
We will clinch every nail she has driven. 
We must, before we leave this State, re¬ 
turn, with witnesses, to the cave; then 
onr way is clear. We shall then have 
the man at the asylum arrested, for he it 
evidently was, who reported your daugh¬ 
ter’s visit and conversation with the 
unfortunate woman, and who was the 
accomplice in the crime. Probably he 
will make a full confession. And yet, 
we must do nothing to alarm the wicked 
bird. We must watch him, and see what 
course he will pursue with his brother, 
and what his motive is. When we bring 
our proofs in Crazy Clara’s case we can 
readily prove his motive for abducting 
your daughter; thus, you see, we have 
gained two points: First, set his wife 
free and proved his guilt; second, let her 
sue him instead of his brother. Don’t 
you see ? ’ ’ 



CHAPTER X. 


GRACE RETURNS TO HER NATIVE CITY. 

The attorney had not reckoned without 
reason that Arnold would escape punish¬ 
ment if he left it with Grace. Once 
restored to her home, she might not only 
refuse to prosecute him, but oppose it. 
The attorney and her father were both 
determined that he should suffer the 
utmost penalty of the law, and by bring¬ 
ing suit for the unlawful incarceration of 
his wife he would have ample opportunity 
to prove Grace’s position. The attorney 
said he would quietly get a writ of habeas 
corpus issued, and once Crazy Clara were 
out and the one man arrested, they would 
secure the husband when wanted. He 
would be bold inasmuch as he believed 
Grace was dead, while he might leave 
summarily did he but know that she lived. 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


97 


Grace asked that she might accompany 
them to the cave, although she could have 
directed them so clearly that they could 
not have missed the way, and her father, 
fearing some evil might befall her at any 
moment, was glad she chose to go. So 
once more she boarded the train, this time 
still closer veiled, and accompanied by two 
officers, the attorney and her father. 

When they reached the flag-station they 
enquired diligently in regard to the trains 
and found they could have fully three 
hours in which to reach and examine the 
cave. They had provided themselves 
with good lanterns > and as they walked 
westward Grace showed them the marks 
she had made upon the trees; and when 
they reached the opening in the earth they 
paused to read her initials and the date 
upon the stone that covered it, then rolled 
it away. She asked that she might 
descend first. “ By the right of discovery, 

you know, it is mine.” 

She smiled as she looked up at them, 



9 8 


SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


only her head now visible. u Follow 
me,” she said. She took a lantern, which 
her father handed her, and when they saw 
her light below the father followed, then 
the attorney, and lastly the officers ; and 
they discovered that it was a large opening 
in the earth with pure air, and bore evi¬ 
dences of having been once inhabited. 

‘ ‘ See, see, father, another box. Come, 
search further,” cried Grace; but they 
found nothing more but only an opening 
which led them, by bending low, to the 
mouth of the cave, which had evidently 
been closed by stones placed there by its 
inhabitors, and near which the railroad 
track lay. 

u We shall not open the box until we 
reach the hotel,” said the attorney to 
Grace’s inquiry concerning its contents. 

They returned direct to the hotel, and 
Grace said to the attorney: ‘ ‘ Open the 
box in the presence of the officers. Some- 
thing tells me we shall find therein who 
the dwellers of the cave have been. ’ ’ And 



SAVED BY A DREAM . 


99 


she withdrew and sat down beside the 
window; and the four men talked in 
strange voices, with their heads close 
together, as they read the papers. 

“Come, daughter, show ns the boxes 
you have in your room. We have indeed 
discovered who the possessor was, for his 
last will and testament lies in this box.” 

Without a word Grace rose up and led 
the way, wondering if God had made her 
the instrument of restoring to orphan 
children, or a widow, or mother, this vast 
amount of money. As she mounted the 
stair before them with that quick, firm 
tread, each man was busy with his own 
thoughts and not a word was spoken. 
She placed the key in her door, unlocked 
and entered it, and they followed her, and 
she unlocked the wardrobe and showed 
them the hidden treasure. The attorney 
took up the satchel, and said to the offi¬ 
cers and her father: 

“We must place this in the Safety 
Deposit Company’s vault.” Grace did 



IOO 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


have a little curiosity to know in whose 
name it would he deposited, hut her father 
and the attorney were there, and all were 
God’s agents now. He would guide 
them. 

When this was all arranged after a 
short consultation, the officers withdrew, 
promising to be at the service of the 
attorney at any time. Then Grace’s 
father turned to her and asked her plans. 

U I have made none, father; I shall act as 
I am guided by the unseen hand that has 
led me thus far. I want to ask my attor¬ 
ney some questions: 

“ First, of all those who gathered at 
my home the night before my abduction y 
and who heard me relate that strange 
dream, did not one believe, did not one 
mention the fact ? ’ ’ 

She asked the question with breathless 
eagerness. The attorney said: 

“ Arnold only suggested it as a ruse on 
your part to mislead your husband. 
Your friends have been silent, for what 




SAVED BY A DREAM. 


IOI 


could they say? Arnold has been active, 
not only publicly, but has been daily in 
company with your husband. He has 
persuaded him to go to his house to stay, 
and take your children there. n 

Grace bowed her head upon the table 
near her and remained silent, as though 
invoking aid. When she raised her face 
again it was calm and bright. 

‘ ‘ The time is not come for me to make 
my presence known to my husband, but 
I have a wish to see him and to see my 
children, unseen of them. Now, father, 
if you can supply me with some money 
to live modestly on, I will wear a disguise 
and follow the path laid out forme. What 
is done must be quickly done for the sake 
of all concerned. Trust me, father.” 
She reached out her hand with a smile. 
“He who leadeth me cannot err. I 
shall get some quiet place, not too far 
from him, and watch and pray for him 
and my little ones. My attorney will 
bear in mind the poor creature for whose 



102 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


sake we must all suffer a little while. 
Arnold was not a devoted husband. I 
imagine you can take her from the asylum 
and keep her quite a while without his 
knowledge. But I must see her and 
cheer her. A lifetime in a lonely cave I 
do not fancy so dreadful as six years in 
that horrible place. Go quickly, and may 
God bless you. But, stay; you told my 
father you were to meet my husband for 
a consultation to-morrow evening in 
Arnold’s house? ” 

“Yes.” 

“You will go?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good-bye, father; I leave to-night. 
Why can we not all go together ? ’ ’ 

“No reason, if your disguise is com¬ 
plete,” he answered. 

‘ ‘ Give me the money and trust me for 
that.” She had returned to the attorney 
the money Arnold had loaned her. * 

That evening the attorney and Mr. La 
Motte took a train for C-. Not far 




SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


103 


from them sat a closely veiled lady in deep 
mourning. Occasionly she bowed her 
head before the train started, as though to 
catch the words of the two gentlemen, and 
she heard the attorney say : ‘ ‘ I have a 

telegram from her husband to come at 
once, and I wired him I would start in 
company with you to-night. He will 
expect us. What if he meets us and 
recognizes her?” 

“No danger of that,” answered her 
father. And then Grace heard the click 
of the ventilators as the porter closed them 
before entering the tunnel. 

She took a berth, but did not sleep, for 
she was filled with agitation at the thought 
of meeting her husband so soon. What 
if Arnold came with him and both recog¬ 
nize her? She became nervous and 
excited. She decided, “I’ll get off at a 
suburban depot;” and thus it happened 
that when the attorney and her father 
looked around the next morning they saw 
that Grace’s berth was made up and that 
she was nowhere to be seen, 



io 4 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


u Where did that widow-lady stop off?” 
asked the attorney of the porter when he 
brushed his coat. 

“ About twenty miles out, sir.” 

Not only Paul came to meet them, but 
he was accompanied by his devoted brother 
Arnold. Old Mr. La Motte grasped 
Paul’s hand and said, “ Cheer up, my 
boy! ’ ’ but the tears stood in his own eyes 
as he saw the wreck that suffering was 
fast making of this lately bright, strong 
man. 

And while speculation was rife in every 
direction as to where Grace was, a reliable 
daily endeavored to get information as to 
who she was, now that the subject was of 
great interest to every one who was 
acquainted with her and the business 
world in which her husband was known. 



CHAPTER XI. 


WHO WAS GRACE, THE DREAMER? 

Who was Grace Norwood, “The 
Dreamer?” Some persons who knew 
ker, or thought they did, would answer: 
“Oh, she’s a very nice woman, peculiarly 
gifted in some respects, but decidedly 
lacking in others, or else a crank, or a 
monomaniac.” Others would say: “I have 
known her from her childhood and I must 
say she is a puzzle to me to-day. ’ ’ Again 
others would say: “She is a high-toned 
Christian woman, with peculiar views on 
some subjects, but a woman of strange 
power over friend or foe. I would want 
her as a friend, yet I would dread her as 
an enemy, for she seems to be a mascot to 
those she loves, and a nemesis to those 
she dislikes.” 

Believing it aosolutely necessary to a 


105 



io6 


SAVED BY A DREAM . 


perfect understanding of this entire story 
that her true character be as clearly 
analyzed as possible, I sought out a num¬ 
ber of persons who knew her; I found 
that, like most peculiar and gifted or 
worthy people, she had the bitterest of 
enemies and the warmest of friends. I 
listened to both, and drew my own con¬ 
clusions ; but what I write I learned from 
a man of world-wide literary fame, who 
knew her best, and who gave me these 
facts sitting in his own library, whither I 
went for this purpose only. 

“Mrs. Grace Norwood,” he said, “is 
to me a strangely interesting character. 
I have known her since her babyhood. 
She was a queer baby, a queer child, a 
a queer girl, and the world calls her a 
queer woman. 

‘ ‘ Early in childhood she became inter¬ 
ested in the New Testament and, indeed, 
memorized it from beginning to end. It 
seems as though the story of Christ took 
deep and lasting hold upon both heart and 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


107 


brain. His promises to those who 
believe, the simple, child-like faith He 
required, His gentle love, all awoke within 
her a spirit of unquestioning faith that I 
have never seen in any other human be¬ 
ing, nor never heard preached by any 
minister of the gospel. 

“As she grew older, she read the Old 
Bible, compared the two and pronounced 
the New Testament a fulfillment of the 
Old. During this time, naturally, she 
studied God’s relation to man, and His 
manner of imparting to him wisdom. 
Then it was that she became absorbed in 
the subject of dreams, inasmuch as that 
was, according to the Bible, Jehovah’s 
favorite mode of instructing mankind. 
Whether it was because her mind dwelt 
upon this subject so continuously I can¬ 
not tell, but she became a great dreamer, 
and, following out what she believed to 
be warnings and instructions given her in 
dreams, she became a marvel of erudition 
and success. 



io8 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


“She has said, too, ‘I cannot err if I 
follow these divine warnings and instruc¬ 
tions, but I must live very near to God 
to have them; for instance, if, for a time, 
I mingle with my associates and allow 
my mind to become worldly, I fall into 
the grossest errors; for all my dreams 
forsake my pillow, and it is only by 
silent meditation and prayerful pleading 
that I can call them back again. 

u ‘ I dare not live like other people. I 
become hateful to myself, I suffer, I grow 
ill, I have no judgment of my own, I am 
swayed by other influences and I wander 
away. I make blunders, I become wicked, 
I hate people without cause, I become 
wretched; then, at last, I seek the soli¬ 
tude of my chamber; I pray and court 
that unseen something my soul tells me 
is my life, my salvation, and, then only, 
comes peace. Then my slumbers are 
filled with dreams, then my silent, soli¬ 
tary hours are sweetest communions with 
whispering voices near me, and I live a 
charmed life. 




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SAVED BY A DREAM . 


109 


4 4 4 But my mother opposes this mode 
of living. I eat very little during this 
time; I am pale, but oh, so strong. She, 
however, consults a physician, who doses 
me with medicine, recommends every¬ 
thing that is most annoying and repulsive 
to me, and most destructive to my own 
well-being.’ 

4 4 Contact with most of her associates 
was positive pain, and she more and more 
withdrew from all her companions, and 
spent days in her own room, only join¬ 
ing the family at meal times, and then 
eating so little that they were concerned 
about her health. Whether her father 
understood her I don’t know, but that 
her mother did not I am sure, for she 
kept up that eternal nagging that at 
times drove the girl almost to desperation. 

4 4 Grace did not reject the doctor’s advice 
to ride horse-back, but she wanted to go 
alone, and, as it was during the Civil War 
and the country was infested with bands 
of guerrillas, her mother protested, but 



no 


SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


her father, who seemed to think she bore 
a charmed life, would say, ‘Let her 
alone.’ I asked her, one day, if she was 
not afraid, and her father said, “She 
doesn’t know what fear is.” She turned 
round in a quick, decided way and said: 

“ ‘Don’t I? I tell you, father, I have 
suffered enough from fear to have made a 
maniac of some people. When I was first 
sent off to sleep alone in that room, away 
from communication from all the house, 
I ’ve sat up all night long gazing with 
strained eyes into the darkness, hearing 
strange sounds, seeing strange sights; 
for if I had a light, mother would send a 
servant to bring it out of the room and 
tell me to go to bed. Finally, after I 
didn’t go mad or die, I bethought me of 
Christ and His promises, and I asked 
Him to send His angel to guard me, or 
the holy comforter which He promised 
His disciples. I had unquestioning faith 
He could do it; I asked Him if He would 
do- it, believing He would; and He did. 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


Ill 


I have never know a moment’s fear since 
then. Don’t be uneasy about me. I 
take my unseen body-guard with me 
wherever I go.’ 

“She passed out of the front door, and 
her father and I stood silently looking out 
of the window at her as she sprang unaided 
upon that little Indian pony, which 
seemed half-human and a part of herself 
in the bright, cold light, and as we 
resumed our seats at the fireside the father 
said: 

“‘Queer child, that, but she will 
come out all right. She’s the kind who 
could walk through hell and never smell 
of brimstone.’ 

“A queer father, too, I said inwardly, 
as I recalled his peculiar remark ; and as 
I scanned his features in repose I saw 
there was a striking resemblance between 
those two which I had never noticed before. 

‘ ‘ She at times talked like a spiritualist; 
for instance she would say: ‘Whenever I 
want to know a thing and the living can 



112 


SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


not tell me, I ask the dead. My dreams 
are filled with faces of those who bring me 
answers to all my questions. If my les¬ 
sons are difficult, I study them over 
silently, make my supplication before I 
sleep for the proper understanding of 
them, and when I wake the problems are 
all solved clearly and indelibly in my mind. 

u ‘I shall always be able to do any¬ 
thing I want to do, so long as I can live 
like I want to. I am myself and cannot 
be forced to act like somebody else. There 
is no power on earth but is God’s ; if I 
use and don’t abuse the power He gives me, 
it will always be mine to use for my good.’ 

“I knew something of her strange 
dreams and their fulfillment, for about 
that time I was a frequent visitor at her 
father’s house. I found out, in conver¬ 
sation with her, that her mother’s nature 
and her’s were directly antagonistic, and 
that she dared not remain much of the 
time in the room with her. Her mother 
was. wordly and ambitious, and continually 



SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


113 


scheming for Grace’s settlement in life. 
Grace was looked upon as a prodigy in 
school, but she always told me frankly 
her instructions came like inspirations, 
and not through earnest work. 

( ‘ It was not an unusual thing for her to 
sit up all night praying for a clear concep¬ 
tion of a lesson instead of studying the 
lesson, and she always averred that prayer 
and faith brought the knowledge and 
understanding she asked for. 

“Upon one occasion, when she had sat 
up all night over a difficult lesson, she 
fell asleep in her chair about daylight and 
dreamed that there had been a skirmish 
between a squad of State militia from the 
nearest military post and a band of guer¬ 
rillas, and that the guerrilla chief, a 
notorious outlaw and the terror of the 
State, lay wounded not far from her 
father’s house. Her father was under 
heavy bond not to leave the county (as 
he was a Southern sympathizer) and was 
under oath not ‘ to aid nor abet ’ a rebel. 



CHAPTER XII. 


WHY GRACE WAS BANISHED. 

“The dream was so vivid that Grace 
described it at the breakfast table and 
expressed her determination to go to the 
spot and convince herself. Her mother 
was curious, and her father laughed at 
her earnestness, while, I confess, I was 
not skeptical. She refused to allow any¬ 
one to accompany her, but took bandages 
and lint and a small flask of brandy and 
started out. We watched her running 
down through the meadow till she reached 
the wooded pasture. 

“An hour or so later she returned, 
vowed she had found the man lying 
wounded and half frozen exactly where 
she had seen him in her dream, that she 
had revived him with the brandy and was 
come now for her pony and phaeton to 
take him to his friends. 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


IJ 5 

“ She told her father and I, but pledged 
ns to secrecy that we didn’t tell her 
mother. She started off again. I can see 
her now as she drove off; the glittering 
snow covering everything and crackling 
like breaking crystal under the wheels of 
her phaeton. 

“Well, to make a long story short, she 
was met by some fellows who knew her, 
and who guessed at who her companion 
was and who went to the provost marshal 
and reported the case. She was tried, 
convicted, and banished, and her father’s 
property was all confiscated, as she was 
supposed to act under his directions. 

( ‘ Then it was I lost trace of her—a child 
fourteen years old. She was sent South 
and did not return until a year later when 
the war closed. Her father was very poor 
after her banishment. I was too busily 
employed to see him, and I heard from 
him only at long intervals. 

“Now comes the strangest part of her 
history. She was a fair musician, but 



n6 


SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


had never been considered a prodigy in 
that line. When she heard of her father’s 
poverty, while she was South, she besought 
her guiding spirit, so she told me after¬ 
wards, and pleaded for the divine gift of 
song. This is the way she expressed it 
to me : 

“ ‘I knew I must now support my par¬ 
ents. By what means, was the question. 
I decided upon vocal music. I had since 
my banishment given full freedom to my 
own inclinations. The result was I drew 
nearer and nearer the unseen guide and 
absorbed more of the divine intelligence 
until my soul was illuminated. 

“ ‘1 dreamed one night of a large audi¬ 
ence, a crowded hall of eager people, all 
impatient to hear a young prima-donna. 
I asked that I might see her, and a great 
mirror was suddenly held before me, and 
I saw myself. 

“‘When I awoke I said, ‘God be 
praised,’ and the first thing I did upon 
dressing, was to go down into the parlor 



SAVED BY A DREAM . 


II 7 


and try a scale. I not only surprised 
myself, but everybody in tbe bouse. A 
few nights afterward, at a concert, I sang 
some simple ballads with wonderful suc¬ 
cess. 

“ 4 1 cannot tell you,’ she said to me, 
‘how I felt. I was like the man I had 
read of who sold all that he had and pur¬ 
chased the field that contained the pearls 
of great price. I was rich now, but I 
realized that it was an inspiration that a 
blunder on my part might loose me, that 
if I perverted my gift it would forsake me, 
so I chose, with all faith, the purest of 
music, leaning partially, even supersti- 
tiously, to sacred music. 

“ ‘In another dream, I was instructed 
to make known the fact and circumstances 
of my banishment, and announce that on 
a certain day I would give a concert for 
the benefit of my parents, who had been 
the sufferers for my act of generosity, 
which was mistaken for disloyalty. 

“ ‘ I consulted a few prominent citizens, 



n8 


SAVED BY A DREAM . 


and they gave their heartiest approval. 
A sister from a convent played my accom¬ 
paniment, and I, a mere child, came in 
that vast audience, greeted by cheers 
from a thousand throats, and stood there 
singing songs naturally as the birds sing, 
and just as the birds sing, for God taught 
me how.’ 

“This was how I found her again. I 
saw an account of her concerts in the 
newspapers, and when the war was over 
she came to the city and I called to see 
her, and this is the impression she made 
upon me: 

11 When she came into the room she did 
not appear to be alone, although no one 
else was visible. She was silent, and I 
could not speak. She spoke, and her 
voice awakened long forgotten memories. 
Indeed, I can scarcely describe my first 
interview after this lapse of years, with 
the strange being, half visible only, it 
seemed, in her human form, with a spirit¬ 
ual essence that filled the room with 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


119 


fanciful forms and dream faces. The very 
air seemed to quiver with the warm pulsa¬ 
tion of unseen life and fluttering wings. 
Her blue eyes searched my soul, and find¬ 
ing a welcome there she held out her hand. 

u ‘I am Urania, sir; — Grace.’ (Her 
real name is Urania, but her father always 
called her Grace, and she eventually 
became known only by that name.) 

‘ 4 After we discussed the success she had 
won with her voice and she had told me her 
beginning, I asked her how she dared to 
undertake so bold and hazardous a thing, 
reminding her that a failure would have 
been ridiculous. 

“‘I could not fail,’ she answered 
promptly and decidedly. 4 You see, I was 
instructed in my dream exactly how to 
conduct my respirations carefully and con¬ 
tinually, so as to control the strongest of 
the vital forces, and to use my breath as 
a means to draw the fire from the extremi¬ 
ties and concentrate it in the trunk of the 
body, where it would be under control of 




120 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


my will for use; and knowing that fire and 
air are the two greatest forces of nature, I 
said: < True, breath is the air that properly 
used will fan the flame. I’ll follow the 
guidance and the great Giver shall make 
all hearts my own through the power of 
divine song.’ 

“ ‘ Oh, it was divine ! ’ she said, clasp¬ 
ing her hands and looking reverently 
upwards; 'a gift direct from God. An 
angel came, and, entering, took possession 
of me and sang the songs it had heard and 
joined in around the eternal throne of 
God. Hear me—is this a human sound ? ’ 
She sang, ‘ I Know That My Redeemer 
Liveth.’ 

“The air trembled and the girl was 
transfigured before me, a very angel of 
light. I could not doubt any longer, I do 
not doubt that she was supernaturally 
gifted. Well, she obtained a position in 
a wealthy church and by means of her 
voice supported her parents until her 
brothers were grown and able to do so. 



SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


121 


“She was much sought after, but 
didn’t seem inclined to matrimony. She 
seemed to fear a mistake, and dreaded 
contact with a nature that would rob her 
of this strange power to draw her guidance 
from an intelligence superior to earthly 
wisdom. 

“She was a charming conversationalist, 
and this mysterious something about her 
wrought a charm that was little less than 
miraculous. 

‘ ‘ I know she had intense likes and dis¬ 
likes ; she seemed to be afraid of her own 
bitterness and often said to me: ‘The 
only way to overcome my hatred is to per¬ 
suade myself that my enemies are dead 
and buried. I can then forget their spite 
and malice, I can avoid speaking of them.’ 
And again she would say with a strange 
smile: 

“ ‘ It is such a misfortune for a person 
to be my enemy and do me a harm, for I 
have watched each individual case, and 
something bad always comes of them. I 



122 


SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


had an aunt who hated me without cause; 
behold her; no good ever came to her or 
her children. Again I had a cousin who 
was a bitter foe without cause, and her 
life has been a curse. Behold my friends; 
they thrive like bay-trees. I love them, 
I trust them, I ask God to be with them.’ 

“One day, a year later, she came to 
me, her face all aglow. She had had a 
dream. 

u ‘I saw my husband,’ she said, ‘he is 
fair and tall, with dark eyes. We will be 
rich and famous. I was in a dream; I 
was singing in church and he came and 
listened to me and loved me, and my 
angel told me he was my own.’ 

“It all happened just as she dreamed; 
they met and were married. Now, can 
you blame her for believing in these 
strange visions ? ’ ’ 




CHAPTER XIII. 


THE “ AGNOSTIC ” DOCTOR. 

Grace left the car and waited for a sub¬ 
urban train, and then, taking a carriage, 
was driven to within a few squares of her 
own home. She got out, paid the cab¬ 
man, and walked on firmly, led, as she 
believed, by the unseen hand, which had 
delivered her from a horrible death, and 
felt confident she could not err if she 
heeded the still small voice. 

Suddenly she paused, and her gaze was 
fixed upon a neat house with refined sur¬ 
roundings. Upon a door-plate she read 
the name of a man whose name and wide- 
spreading fame had reached her through 
the daily press. Some called him a 
spiritualist, some said he was an agnostic, 
who was only trying to attain notoriety 
by unprofessional humbuggery. 


123 



124 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


While Grace stood there a pleasant, 
motherly face appeared, and smiling, said : 

1 ‘ Do you wish to see the doctor ? ’ ’ 

Something made her answer, yes. She 
entered the house and was ushered into a 
sort of study or labratory. A tall, dark 
gentleman stood as though expecting her. 

“Good morning, madam; be seated.” 

Grace seemed in a trance. She took a 
seat near the window and said: 

1 ‘ I am looking for a boarding place, and 
physicians know so many people — can 
you recommend any place to me?” 

“Mother,” he called, and the sweet 
face appeared. 

“Can we board this lady for a few 
weeks ?” 

‘ ‘ I think so. We are very quiet here. ’ ’ 

“Thank you,” Grace answered, and 
again they were left alone. What a queer 
proceeding, she thought, as though all 
had been previously arranged. 

“ So, Mrs. Norwood, you are here at last.” 

Grace started up in alarm. 



SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


125 


“Sir?” she gasped. 

“I say, you are here at last. I felt 
sure you would come.” 

“I do not understand you. I must 
go.” She turned hurriedly to the door. 

u O, no, my dear madam. Do not be 
frightened. You see, I read the daily 
newspapers sometimes. I heard all about 
it there ; besides, I read with intense inter¬ 
est your dream which was related before 
the club just the night before your dis¬ 
appearance, and I said to mother when 
you disappeared: c Watch! it will reveal 
something.’ 

“I do not believe the scandal, oh, no; 

I knew you would come back. I knew 
why you were gone, I say. Now, if I- 
tell you that I’ve traced you, I’ve seen 
you in a dark cave—Ah! don’t start! I 
saw you escape, and had you not been able 
to do so, I should have led your friends 
there. I know too, that although so near 
your husband you cannot yet reveal your¬ 
self to him. I said to mother this morn- 



126 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


ing: 1 A lady comes, she is weak and ill, 
we must take her in.’ ” 

Grace sat stupefied. Was there collu¬ 
sion here with enemies? No! She could 
not entertain the thought for a moment. 
She made conspicuous the charm on her 
watch-chain, and he smiled. 

‘ ‘ Ah! your husband is a Scottish Rite 
Mason, so am I; but something more 
sacred than that binds God’s creatures to¬ 
gether. The man who took you away 
was a Free Mason.” 

Ah ! so he was. 

“So, we will say no more about that, 
though they are a grand, good body of 
men. They can’t keep out a Judas here 
and there.” 

‘ ‘ I thought you were an Agnostic. You 
could not be and be a Free Mason.” 

“People call me many things. I said 
God’s people. Well, I meant God’s peo¬ 
ple to whom He makes manifest strange 
things, for all good things we believe come 
from God. It is a good thing to have a 



SAVED BY A DREAM . 


127 


sacred belief in a presence near ns, able 
and willing to save ns from all barm if we 
trust in it. But we must suffer mncb for 
onr opinions. 

“I was, I am, a physician and surgeon. 
When I asserted that drugs created more 
diseases and worse diseases than they 
cured, I was called crazy by a certain 
class of practitioners and by all druggists. 
When I said other things the papers took 
it up and I was soon in a world of trouble. 

“When I said the preachers called 
Christ the Great Healer, the Great Physi¬ 
cian, I said I’d stake my life they could 
not find a record that He had ever 
administered a dose of medicine during 
His earthly pilgrimage, nor did He ever 
say the sick needed medicine; He said 
they needed a physician. Well, then, I 
was called a spiritualist. 

11 When it was revealed to me how to re¬ 
lieve suffering without medicine, and I 
began to practice my new theory, I was 
called a hypnotist. 



128 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


“But if I can take hold of a patient’s 
hand, and feel his pain, locate and relieve 
it without medicine, why does a man who 
cannot do so judge me? He says: 1 Put 

out your tongue,’ feels your pulse and 
asks you where your pain is, knowing well 
the locality of the pain may not be the 
seat of your ailment, any more than the 
reflection thrown by a mirror is the mirror. 

“I say surgery is a grand, a glorious 
science. I say, too, the best surgeon is 
he who saves the most limbs, not he who 
cuts off the greatest number most skill¬ 
fully. I say nothing against the great 
brotherhood of wise men who spend their 
lives to relieve the sick and suffering. I 
do say, the day will come when the gov¬ 
ernment must take hold of the medical 
colleges, and appoint inspectors of apoth¬ 
ecaries. 

‘ ‘ It appoints commissioners to inspect 
its banks, to keep some from defrauding 
others; for schools for proper education, 
and turns loose the fathers and mothers 



SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


129 


of coming generations ignorant of the 
greatest curses that beset our land. 

1 ' Mind you, I do not even say one word 
against the knaves; it is the fools I berate 
—colleges for medicines that annually 
send out hundreds of ignoramuses that 
are turned loose upon our defenseless peo¬ 
ple and kill more men than ever fell in 
battle. They prescribe morphia, opium, 
chloral, bromidia, etc., and deaden a suf¬ 
ferer’s pain. The bottle bears a label and 
a number. The prescription is refilled at 
the druggists whenever the patient de¬ 
sires, and when the fatal habit is formed, 
which results in a disease far worse than 
it would cure, suffering, insanity or death 
may come, for this is the patient’s end. 

“There must be physicians; but they 
should be chemists. Some of these young 
fellows will give medicines that absolutely 
poison the system in their chemical action 
in the stomach. A dose of calomel may 
combine with a secretion of the stomach 
unprepared for it, and thus unite to form 



130 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


the deadliest of poisons, and I could show 
yon hundreds of ways how these people 
curse the land. 

u America has its hundreds of thous¬ 
ands of intemperate men and women— 
morphine and opium eaters. Who is at 
fault? Nine times out of ten the physi¬ 
cian and druggist. Why, the king of 
homeopathists of this land has spent the 
last fifteen years of his life to discover 
antidotes for poisons used in alopathic 
practice, prescribed by ignorant men. 

‘ c I believe to-day that most of our dis¬ 
eased and delicate women are suffering 
from the large doses of strong medicines 
and from patent medicines, sold and used 
without a diagnosis of the disease. 

‘‘ Whenever a great need is felt in gov¬ 
ernment or science, God makes man His 
agent. There is need of a radical change 
in medical practice. There must be raised 
up among this people a Moses for the 
drunkard, for the weak and suffering in 
mind and body. Who shall that Moses 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


131 

be? I watch and wait for him daily. 
Yes, a Moses to free them from the bond¬ 
age of ignorance of their own physical and 
mental organization and to teach them 
that proper nourishment, proper clothing, 
cheerfulness and hope, faith, if you will, 
can do more for a human body than all 
the medicines ever compounded. 

A Moses in the ministry who does not 
teach a doctrine for the rich, while the 
masses go untaught. See how these so- 
called Christian denominations are mov¬ 
ing all their fine churches into aristocratic 
neighborhoods, leaving the unwashed in 
the crowded districts provided for only by 
mission schools, and these schools are 
taugnt mainly by young, inexperienced 
persons. 

Young girls think a class of Chinamen 
a bonanza about Christmas times. They 
receive so many valuable gifts, and the 
Chinamen feel: ‘We are paying this 
much to the pretty girls who teach us the 
English language.’ That’s the truth. 




132 


SAVED BY A DREAM . 


‘ ( The Catholics do stick to the poor more 
closely, though they, too, reach out for 
valuable property and plant their founda¬ 
tions in our most valuable soil, and their 
spires and crosses point out heaven mainly 
among the rich. Still, their cathedrals 
stay where the poor may come. 

u (Where is God to be made known to 
these poor wretches if it be not in the faith 
of something unseen ? They find precious 
little to have faith in that which they can 
see. 

‘ 1 1 have made this my motto in life: 

‘ If I believed I could do a thing, to do it, 
and do it well, and allow nobody on earth 
to dissuade me. If I didn’t believe I 
could do it, to allow nobody on earth to 
persuade me to undertake it.’ My con¬ 
victions are as strong as yours that I am 
working on the correct basis, and that I will 
succeed if I obey the Voice that guides me. ’ ’ 
Here they were interrupted by the 
entrance of a woman with a crippled child. 
One leg was in a steel brace and seemed 



SAVED BY A DREAM . 


133 


shorter than the other and she used a 
crutch. The doctor looked at the woman, 
then at the child. 

“ Can you do anything for her? She 
is a constant care to me, and I am poor,” 
said the woman. 

“ Who put that on?” he asked, point¬ 
ing to the brace. 

“Dr.-ordered it.” 

i 1 Humph; come here, child. ’ ’ 

He gently laid her on a couch, put his 
left hand on her right shoulder near the 
neck and took her left hand in his right 
and stood looking at her. In a few 
minutes the little girl seemed fast asleep. 
The doctor removed the steel boot, threw 
it across the room, caught hold of the girl’s 
leg above the knee and seemed to give it a 
powerful pull, for something popped, and 
the mother turned pale. 

He then pulled down the child’s stock¬ 
ing and bade Grace watch the limb change 
temperature and color. After a while the 
child awoke. 




134 


SAVED BY A DREAM . 


She rubbed her eyes. 

“Get up and stand,’’ he said. 

She reached to her mother for her 
crutch. 

“You don’t need that,” he said. “I 
don’t allow little children to walk with 
crutches. You fell down stairs once and 
have been lame ever since. Hurt your 
ankle and threw your hip out of place. 
Ankle has been well long ago.” 

She got up and stood bewildered; then 
she took a step unaided. 

11 It isn’t like the other one just yet, but 
be careful, and it soon will be strong. It 
is weak from disuse. You’ll have no 
more pain, the pressure of that bone is 
removed. Good-bye. When you can 
walk good, come to see me.” 

“What is your charge, sir?” asked the 
happy mother. 

‘ 1 You said you were poor. ’ ’ He looked 
keenly at her. 

“Not too poor to pay a little at a time, 
for I can work,” she answered. 



SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


135 


“ Never mind about that. We’ll see if 
this little girl will pay me by being a good 
child to her mother,” and he dismissed 
them. 

u Thousands suffer just so,” said he 
when alone with Grace again. “ Doctor 
the effect; don’t know the cause.” 

“I am amazed,” said she. 

“Do you wonder that I fight for a 
principle? ” he asked. 

u No, indeed.” 

“Do you call that spiritualism?” 

“I cannot; it is science. God-given 
knowledge. You used no chloroform, and 
it must have been painful.” 

“I ‘ hypnotized ’ her; that’s better than 
chloroform for her,” he answered, a ray 
of light breaking over his face illuminating 
its dark tones. 



CHAPTER XIV. 


GRACH BECOMES NURSE TO HER OWN 

CHILDREN AND SEES TWO QUEER CHAR¬ 
ACTERS. 

“ You want to go and see your husband 
and children to-night, and hear a consul¬ 
tation between those three,” said the 
agnostic doctor. 

Grace looked up in amazement. Her 
very thoughts. 

“We can manage it. I spent many 
years of my early life among the Indians. 
I have some of their paints, I’ll stain your 
face and hands and disguise you as a 
mulatto. Remember, each woman has a 
characteristic carriage. I’ll fix your shoes 
with heels of unequal height. Go to 
Arnold Norwood’s and apply for a position 
as nurse, for they advertised to-day.” 

Grace started up. 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


*37 


“Oh, thank you. Make haste, some 
one else may get the place.’’ 

An hour later Sarah Norwood stood 
bargaining with a neat colored girl, and at 
last they agreed upon terms. She was 
told to give the children an airing in the 
park ; after dinner they would be amused 
in the nursery, and the nurse should 
attend to the door-bell, as it was the house- 
girl’s day out, and thus it was that Grace 
was once more in charge of her own 
children. 

Could she read, asked little Paul. 

“Can yon read ‘Mother Goose,’ or tell 
ns stories as mamma used to do?” asked 
the little girl. 

“Very well,” she answered. She took 
them upon her lap, but was afraid to kiss 
them, lest her color might be objection¬ 
able, and told them fairy tales. 

‘ 1 Why, Alice (the name she had given), 
those are the very, very stories, mamma 
used to tell,” said little Paul. And then 
Grace drew from them, in their bird-like 



138 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


chatter, everything she wished to know : 
When papa came home, etc., etc. 

“ There goes the bell,” said little Paul. 
( ‘ Ge whiz! It must be a policeman! How 
he rings! ’ ’ 

“ Policeman! Do police come here?” 

i 1 Oh, yes; to give news. I don’t know 
why, but it’s been so ever since mamma 
left. You know, she’s off visiting.” 

So they hadn’t heard the wicked tales 
about her—thank God for that! When 
Grace opened the front door she saw a 
man whose face seemed to freeze her blood. 

“ Well, lady, just tell the gentleman as 
Mike is here, an’ he needn’t say he aint at 
home, for I see him step in a moment ago. ’ ’ 

“ Which gentleman? There are two 
staying here.” 

“Him, as they call Arnold, if yez bay 
so kind.” 

“I’ll see if he is at home, ’ ’ she answered, 
and would have closed the door, but the 
man impudently forced his way into the 
hall and said: 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


*39 


“ Tell him it’s me as want’s to see him, 
and divil o’ bit I’ll go until he comes.” 

Grace sought Sarah’s room and found 
Arnold in a low conversation with her. 
His air was that of a cool villain well 
pleased with a day’s work. 

He flushed when the message was 
delivered, and said: “I’ll go down and 
see what the scoundrel means.” 

He did not notice Grace, nor seem con¬ 
scious that she was a new edition to their 
household. 

“Remember,” he said to Sarah on 
leaving the room, “her father, his attor¬ 
ney and I shall want the library this 
evening.” 

Grace hastened to the children and gave 
them promises to tell them more stories 
when she returned, if they would be still 
and not call for her until she came back 
to them. Then she stole quietly down 
the back stairs and hid herself where she 
could hear the conversation between Arnold 
and his guest. 



140 


SAVED BY A DREAM . 


“Well, Mike,” was the first word 
Arnold spoke. 

“It’s not well, Mr. Arnold, it’s devilish 
bad. I say, I was not the one who did 
the dade, but I’d been satisfied if you had 
let me take the money first, and then the 
diament ring. As you wouldn’t, why 
then, I want some of your money.” 

“I’vegiven you money every day for a 
week, and I tell you that coming here 
will get ns both into trouble. Yon must 
not come to this house again, nor to my 
office. You’ll have the police on your 
track.” 

“I’m not skeart, mister. I want money, 
and money I’ll have, or I’ll go back to 
that hole and fish the body up with a 
grab-hook, and rob it, and throw it back 
again. Remember, it would be a bad 
piece of business for you if they traced me 
there, and, going down into the hole, 
found them papers as she carried along 
with her when she screeched and clung to 
you. ’ ’ 



SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


141 


“Hush, damn you! Here’s money; 
begone! Stop, I’ll send some more to 
you ; but don’t you go making a fool of 
yourself coming here again.” 

“Nor of yourself, Mr. Arnold. That 
was a bad game to pay so little for.” 

The man went out. 

Later on the bell rang again, and this 
time Grace descended in time to see Arnold 
himself let a man in and take him direct 
to the library. 

She felt a strange desire to hear this 
conversation, too; she had not seen the 
man’s face clearly. She must do so. She 
heard Arnold say : 

* ‘ So you concluded to do the work ? ’ ’ 
when they were seated. 

“Yes, I’ll do it; but I must have some¬ 
thing big for it.” 

“That you shall, a liberal reward, but 
I want that to end it. I don’t want you 
running after me for more money.” 

“You’ll never hear of me asking for 
another cent, nor see me again soon.” 



142 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


u $i ,000 ? ’ ’ said Arnold. 

“ Yes, that will do , 5 ’ the man replied. 

“ Mind, it must be a clean job ; no trace 
left.” 

“Trust me, sir. Many’s the trick of 
the same kind I have played.” 

Grace stood at the front door as the 
man went out. Heavens, she had 
seen that face in an illustrated paper 
of a murder trial. Ah, could she be 
mistaken ? 

Arnold did not detain his guest. He 
attended to business with great dispatch. 
Doubtless the fact of the police sometimes 
calling hastened matters, or the fact that 
his brother Paul might step in at any 
moment. So reasoned Grace as she 
ascended the stairs. 

She found the little ones and gave them 
an early supper and put them to bed. As 
they knelt down to say their prayers, she 
heard a footstep at the door. It paused, 
and, when the prayer was done, their 
father entered. 




ipps 


SHI 












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•8P 'M 
































. 

































SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


M3 


Grace was prepared to see a great 
change, but not like this ! Pale, tremb¬ 
ling, nervous, this was her own bright, 
daring husband, whose dauntless spirit 
she had never thought could be subdued. 
But it was bowed now with sorrow, fear, 
maybe shame. There was a wild impulse 
for a moment to throw her arms around 
his neck, but a glimpse of her dark face 
in the mirror opposite, a memory of Crazy 
Clara, and she staggered back with an 
awkward apology. 

Paul had not seemed to see her. He 
bent over and kissed the children, and 
they said: 

u Papa, how sick you look. When is 
mamma coming home ? ’ ’ 

u Soon, love, I hope. Go to sleep. Do 
you like your nurse ? ’ ’ 

“ Yes, jolly, papa; she tells the very 
same stories mamma used to tell,” 
answered his little son. 

Paul looked at her keenly and said : 

“ Take good care of them.” 



144 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


u Rest easy, sir. I cannot stay all 
night; the lady said she had no place for 
me to sleep, but I’ll return early.” 

She longed to linger; she feared to stay. 
That pale face, those sad eyes were more 
than she could bear. Lately so brilliant 
and full of hope, now so worn, and weary 
of life. There was no elasticity in his 
step, no fire in his dark eyes. Oh, it was 
hard, so hard to look upon him thus. 



CHAPTER XV. 


THE CONSULTATION. 

Grace’s father, Paul and Arnold Nor¬ 
wood, and the attorney sat around a table 
in the library. 

The attorney meant business only, 
while old Mr. La Motte would have com¬ 
forted his son-in-law had he dared. 
Arnold glanced at the old man with a 
puzzled look that seemed to say: 

“ He has not changed like Paul. What 
nerve that family has!” - 

But as he studied that firm mouth and 
chin, and saw that look of determination 
in his eye, he traced for the first time the 
strong resemblance between Grace and 
her father. 

“So,” said the attorney, turning to 
Arnold, “your advice to your brother is 
to sell all that he has left and go away.” 


145 


146 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


4 ‘ I think his life depends upon it. Look 
at him,” answered Arnold, with affected 
tenderness. 

4 4 Only eight days have passed since 
this fearful thing occurred. Are you 
ready, Paul, to believe your work is 
done?” asked the father. 

“God knows I’ve exhausted every bit 
of brain and nerve power I had, in the 
effort to discover her.” 

“Do you, my son, believe her to be 
alive or dead?” 

There was a pause and Paul buried his 
face in his hands. 

1 4 Answer that question. Do you ? ’ ’ 

“Something tells me she is alive, my 
reason tells me she is dead, else, why this 
awful silence?” 

44 What do you think, Mr. La Motte, ’ ’ said 
Arnold, looking at the old man fixedly. 

“I? I believe she lives. I know not 
just now where, but in God’s good time, 
Paul, you’ll see her and understand it all. 
It is not of her own free will she is silent, be 




tfiissi 




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.• : ■ 






•• 






»« 











































































, 





























































































































































SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


147 


sure of that, 5 ’ answered the old man firmly. 
But his words could not comfort Paul. 

u After all this scandal, it seems to me 
that even you, her father, would gladly 
see her dead,” said Arnold. 

“If I believed it, yes; but as God lives 
her good name shall be vindicated at a 
fearful cost to all who have taken it in 
vain. Listen! I swear by all that is 
most sacred to me on earth, and I call God 
and his agents to witness, I’ll spend the 
rest of my days hunting down this mys¬ 
tery, and woe to the man or woman who 
had a hand in this dastardly deed. I, her 
father, am not discouraged. See me! am 
I pale? Hear me! Does my voice sound 
like that of a weak old man? Ah! Never 
had I such strength in my early prime, 
and the fire of my youth burns in my 
vains. Yes, Paul, as sure as God lives 
your wife lives, though we see her not; 
and although you grow pale and die, her 
father will still live to avenge his child. 
Now, Mr. Attorney, proceed.” 



148 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


“ Paul’s brother kindly offers to assume 
the indebtedness of Paul, which consists 
of a few thousand dollars, and give him 
five thousand dollars for the business.” 

“ Humph!” said Mr. La Motte, “ go 
on, Mr. Attorney.” 

(i Paul proposes to put his children in a 
convent, and go abroad the middle of next 
month,” continued the attorney. 

“ After the first term of court. Very 
well,” said the old man. “Paul, I 
thought your business was worth thirty 
thousand dollars per annum.” 

“ So it was when I could attend to it. It 
needs constant care. I have spent three 
thousand dollars the past week, I don’t 
know how. I am incapable of attending 
to business.” 

“Ah, my boy, I’ve seen you climb the 
ladder steep and tall, from the bottom, 
with good heart.” 

“Yes, father, with love and happiness 
to cheer me on. I’m a poor man without 
it.” 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


149 


The grim man’s eye sparkled with a 
tear as lie looked at his son-in-law. 

“ You must have loved her well, my 
boy.” 

“Oh, never did I know how well until 
Host her.” 

“Then it is settled. I supposed yon 
wanted ns to map out some plans and 
help yon to work. But doubtless your 
brother is right. You might have written 
me this and saved our journey. Still, 
I’m glad to have seen you to give you one 
word of cheer. 

Old Mr. La Motte wrung Paul’s hand 
and the attorney bade him be brave—both 
assured him of their friendship and took 
their leave. 

Grace, secreted near them, had heard 
all, and what was it? Her husband 
loved her, but had not expressed one word 
of his faith in her. 

Arnold was alone. He lit a cigar and 
made some figures on a paper. 

“ It’s cheap enough,” he smiled. “ I 



SAVED BY A DREAM . 


*5° 


can make a fortune out of it. Ha, I’ll 
make the fellow wko rids me of Mike 
proprietor. Tkat fellow would have 
hanged ns both. If that little dreamer’s 
spirit is permitted to roam to-night, she 
can see queer things have come of her 
devilish dream.” 

He sat opposite a mirror, and just then 
he caught the glimpse of a face in it. A 
face that of all faces ever created he 
remembered best. He clutched his 
throat. His chair twirled and fell with a 
crash. 

Sarah found him so, and shrieking, 
brought Paul to her aid, and sent for a 
physician. 

Grace had removed the stain from her 
face, unbound her hair, and from near a 
spot she had prepared escape, tested his 
nerves. She then went direct to the hotel 
where her father was, and told him what 
she had done. 

He feared for her to return the next 
day, or indeed any more, lest fear cause 




































































' 










































































































SAVED BY A DREAM. 


151 


Arnold to be more watchful, and in some 
way she betray herself. 

He promised to urge Paul to put the 
children in a convent, and then arrange 
that she might visit them as their nurse. 




CHAPTER XVI. 


THE WONDERFUL GUIDE. 

Tlie days liad been long, since Grace 
saw ber husband bend over tbeir children 
in his good-night embrace. At times she 
felt she must go to him and tell him all, 
and ease his mind and bring gladness to 
his heart. Her father and the attorney 
forbade it, saying the time was short and 
she must wait. She had gone daily to 
the convent to see her children as their 
nurse j she had talked to the queer 
doctor and his wife, and watched with 
strange interest the unfolding of his 
new doctrines; but still her mind and her 
heart were absorbed in her husband, her 
children and Clara. She had looked still 
further. Paul had sold his business at a 
great sacrifice to Arnold, and Grace saw 


152 


SAVED BY A DREAM . 


153 


that work, hard work, lay before her in 
the future. She could sing. Ah, that 
God-giveu song! Oh, well, they would 
be so happy. They could live very eco¬ 
nomically, if only Paul’s health could be 
restored. That could be, for she would 
ask her Heavenly Father that one priceless 
gift in addition to her other blessings. 
It would be given, yes, oh yes. 

Her faith grew stronger every hour. 
She prayed for patience now to await the 
happy time. She looked out upon the 
world with a new vision. The experi¬ 
ences of the past few weeks had unfolded 
to her stranger pictures of the unseen 
realm from whence her guidance came. 
Her daily associations with the doctor and 
his wife gave her a different conception of 
humanity. Here was a man, inspired of 
God, working what were once called 
miracles, and was gaining a stronger foot¬ 
hold every day, notwithstanding he was 
called a crank and a humbug. Men of 
position and wealth were employing him 



154 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


upon cases where the ordinary practition¬ 
ers had failed. 

Earth wore a new glory for her, and the 
heavens spoke in a new language to her 
soul. Believing that she had been sought 
out and appointed by the Everlasting God 
to perform a holy task of love and duty 
to a fellow creature, she began to look 
upon herself as something more sacred 
than she had ever been before—a favored 
creature, who had been entrusted a sacred 
charge, and she resolved to prove worthy 
in all things. 

Now unfolded to her with new meaning 
all the peculiarities of her nature from 
childhood. Her aims, her ambitions, her 
hopes, her longings, and her faith told 
her that she should realize all and more 
than she had ever dreamed, if she held 
herself in readiness to obey the divine in¬ 
structions as promptly and as fearlessly 
as she had done in this first charge. 

Her heart swelled with a stronger love 
towards all humanity j a deep yearning 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


*55 


pity came where scorn and contempt had 
once been. The criminal was no longer 
to be despised, but pitied and prayed for. 

Many and varied were the thoughts 
that, like suggestions from a luminous 
mind, came to brighten her mind. She 
seemed without study to be inhaling a 
kind divine wisdom, and for the first time 
in her life realized that the desire for 
truth, goodness, purity and wisdom is the 
one thing needful. This earnest desire 
brought an influx of the Divine Spirit 
which flooded her soul, and daily she 
grew in strength, health and beauty. 

She was not alone. She felt that never 
again could the loneliness come to her. 
She closed her eyes, and beautiful visions 
unfolded life’s great panorama. She 
opened a book, and, glancing through it, 
knew it all. 

No task was difficult, no science 
obscure. The mystic veil that shrouded 
the things which puzzle mortals was 
raised for her and she saw plainly; saw 



156 SAVED BY A DREAM. 


what all her stumbling blocks had been, 
saw what the stumbling blocks of others 
had been—ignorance. She knew that no 
one who lives near God in spirit can be 
ignorant and that those who look for Him 
with spiritual eyes may find Him as she 
found Him in the cave. 

There is no way to force His presence, 
no way to steal His wisdom. The only 
true method is to absorb His divine nature 
and become like Him. 

“ Cursed be the man thattrusteth in man, and 
maketh flesh his arm, and whose heart departed 
from the Lord. ’ ’ 

She had seen these words copied on the 
Doctor’s table that morning and asked him 
why it was there. 

He smiled, and said: 

“ To remind me that I must keep my 
thoughts free from pride in my work and 
not claim it as my own. That I am but 
the instrument of my Divine Master, 
through which he works these merciful 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


J 57 


She took her morning walks breathing 
in God’s pure air, believing that thus she 
absorbed the Divine essence. 

She kept Faith like a loving companion 
near her and believed that like a guardian 
angel she walked, a substantial body, be¬ 
side her. 

Peace dwelt in her heart and she looked 
forward to the near future, when she 
could show all these wondrous and mys¬ 
terious things to her husband, and how 
she should rear her children in this beauti¬ 
ful world that had opened before her. 

And thus the hours numbered days, and 
to-morrow the prisoner would be free. 
Clara should breath the air of love again. 

And reaching out her arms as though 
to embrace some loved one, she startles 
them below with angelic songs. The 
Doctor leaves his study and beckons 
“ mother” into the hall and pointing 
upward to her rooms whispers: 

‘‘Hark! Listen how the angels sing— 
for they alone have taught her how.” 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


And thus the great wheel plunges on 
in mid-ocean. Humanity struggles 
blindly, and angels stoop to raise them 
up. One more spoke is added to the giant 
wheel, another spirit stands at the helm, 
not looking at the boiling waters below in 
fear, nor raising her eyes above in prayer, 
but reaching out her arms with smiles as 
though she knows a mighty host is near. 

On, on for ages must their journey be 
till the spirit knows its living source. 
Till the tempel claims its soul and puri¬ 
fies itself for the abode of the living God. 



CHAPTER XVII. 


clara’s story. 

Grace sat at lier window this afternoon 
waiting and watching, and at last a car¬ 
riage stopped at the Doctor’s door and her 
father and the attorney, accompanied by a 
veiled lady and an officer, entered the 
house. 

Grace’s heart beat wildly. She looked 
round the room. Its fresh purity of blue 
and white and gold, its pretty pictures, 
the new piano; and, as she stood there with 
her hand on her heart, waiting, they 
ascended the stairs. Grace wore a white 
dress, and, catching a glimpse of herself, 
she saw her face was radiant. Oh, how 
will it affect her? 

They paused. 

“ Remove your veil, my dear,” she 
heard her father say, and the hat and veil 


159 


i6o 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


dropped from tlie newcomer’s head to the 
floor. She who had worn it walked me¬ 
chanically on and stopped at Grace’s door, 
and Grace reached out her arms and Clara 
fell fainting into them. 

As Clara and Grace sat alone that same 
evening, in answer to some questions, Clara 
answered: 

“I had been a spoiled child of fortune, 
and every evil tendency was nurtured into 
luxuriant growth when I first met, loved 
and married Arnold Norwood. That he 
loved me less fondly than I did him never 
entered my brain until after I saw how 
firmly he grasped the reins, not only of 
my fortune, but of my own imperious will. 
Naturally I rebelled, then defied, but I 
never dreamed him capable of so dastardly 
a deed as to rob me of my liberty and 
stain our children with the taint of heredit¬ 
ary insanity. 

1 ‘ Violent fits of anger and awful poignant 
grief, at last caused me to become danger¬ 
ously ill of congestion of the brain, 



SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


161 


and during my weak bodily condition, 
although after I was perfectly sane, I was 
taken to the asylum where you found me 
on that never-to-be-forgotten day. 

1 ‘ I cannot picture to you the horror of 
a human soul, weak, helpless, abandoned 
in such a place as that. At first I was 
stunned aud speechless with terror. 
Night after night I lay awake wondering 
if I should be left there always, when my 
meditations would be disturbed by moans 
and cries of the poor wretches in my 
dormitory (for I was at first put with the 
weak and harmless), and anon by wild 
cries from the maniac cells where strong, 
violent men struggled with the demons of 
their horrible fancies, I would put my 
hands over my ears or turn over on my 
face and count the beatings of my own pulse. 

“What did it mean that I was here? 
Did those physicians adjudge me insane 
because of that illness wherein I raved in 
delirium and for eleven days was wholly 
blind. 



162 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


“At one time I remember I became 
conscious and the blood went surging up 
into my brain and I screamed, oh, such a 
dreadful scream, and realizing it was 1 
who had sent forth that cry and believing 
I must be mad, I tried to pray to die and 
fell back unconscious. 

“From that long dark hour I swung 
back to life, oh, so weak, but conscious. 
I remembered certain events, then I recog¬ 
nized my little ones, whom I called for, and 
the few friends who were allowed to see me. 

11 1 talked with my husband and prom¬ 
ised if God raised me up from that bed in 
health to live a different creature. He 
listened to me with that hypocritical smile 
that had once deceived me and now 
deceived me again. At that very time he 
was planning my incarceration, for while 
I still needed tender care, I was taken to 
the asylum, and from the beginning 
treated with studied cruelty. 

“Finally it dawned upon me that I was 
put. there for the purpose of getting rid of 



SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


163 


me and possessing my fortune undis¬ 
turbed. Then I grew wild with fear and 
bate. 

‘ ‘ Who says we can learn to love? Love 
is involuntary and springs unbidden into 
life. No one can learn to love and none 
can learn to hate. Both passions spring 
into existence like fairy giants. Nothing 
can conquer love but hate. They fight 
till one is victor. Why, I once thought 
love the most formidable of giants, but in 
a moment hate showed herself the master. 
Hate took possession of my soul, it 
strengthened me, it promised me victory 
and freedom. I nursed this feeling, I 
slept with it, I dreamed of it, I awoke and 
it was my first thought. 

4 ‘Then, said I, if I am immured here 
thus there may be others, too, whose fate 
is just the same, and I watched every 
word and gesture of my companions. But 
I saw none who seemed like me. They 
were sad or dull, gay or morose. Yet 
they did not seem to think. Like so 



164 


SAVED BY A DREAM . 


many dumb animals they were penned 
here to eat and sleep and die. Yet some 
had friends who came to look after them. 
I was indeed alone. 

‘ ‘ At times I sat beside the window look¬ 
ing out into the bright world where I had 
once been the petted child of my dead 
parents, then the gay belle who was 
courted and admired, and who at last in 
the face of opposition gave my hand to a 
man, a stranger almost, but to one I did 
most deeply love. 

U I recalled every hour I had known 
him, and I saw with different eyes every 
act from the beginning of our courtship 
until the last acts of cruelty which excited 
and angered me into that fearful illness. 

‘ ‘ I suppose he thought I would die soon 
with such surroundings, but strange to 
relate, my mind and body daily strength¬ 
ened, and I demanded my liberty. Of 
course my wild grief, my fierce wrath, my 
day of melancholy brooding, all made the 
attendants think me mad and growing 



SAVED BY A DREAM . 


165 


violent. Rebelious anger filled my soul. 

I prayed God to let mine enemy, my 
husband, fall into the pit he had dug for 
me. 

U I reproached my Maker, that he 
allowed such evil deeds to pass unpun¬ 
ished, and thus I went on month in, 
month out, from fits of gloom to fits of 
rage, and threats of terrible revenge, and 
often and often was I inhumanely treated, 
by those soulless wretches who had me in 
charge. 

‘ ‘ Often have I spent nights in the dark 
cell, alone with thoughts as dark as 
devils could have conjured up coursing 
through my brain. Often have I lain 
awake all night planning escape and the 
direful vengeance I would take upon my 
hated husband. Tears never came. For 
years a dry-eyed misery gnawed my vitals. 

u One day, just the day before you 
came, I had been treated very outrage¬ 
ously. I had been cruelly beaten and 
afterwards confined in the straight-jacket, 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


166 


or kind of coffin-cradle, prone npon my 
back where I could not move, and was 
left all alone, worn out and half dead. 

‘ ‘ I was willing to die and never have 
revenge; willing to die and never see my 
little ones again; willing to die and leave 
him in peace with his accursed gold, 
willing to be buried alive and rot inch by 
inch, or have my vitals gnawed out and 
suffer with physical and mental agony all 
the horrors I could thus feel. 

u ‘ But oh, my God! have mercy and 
let me leave this hell! ’ my soul cried, and 
such a prayer as I sent up must have 
pierced to the very throne of Almighty 
God, for he sent me a vision of my child¬ 
hood in sleep that very night, and even 
while I slept I prayed, and I awoke pray¬ 
ing for one sign that the God my mother 
had taught me to love, still lived and his 
promises remained 

“‘Oh, for one little token that my 
Redeemer liveth,’ I cried again and again, 
and a great peace stole over me. 



SAVED BY A DREAM . 


167 


4 ‘ When my keeper came to taunt me 
I reviled her no more, and for reward she 
informed me that they knew now how to 
conquer me and that my very bones 
should be broken in my body. Still she 
could not rouse me into one expression of 
wrath. 

“A sweet, calm spirit had taken pos¬ 
session of me, a holy calm born of hope 
held me in the ecstacy of awaiting some 
happy event, and in my last slumber I 
saw a face—your face, Grace—floating 
down the long corridor, and as you neared 
me I saw you were a living woman, and 
held in your hand a white banner; and 
written upon it, in gold letters, was the 
word Deliverance , and over your forehead, 
in letters of gold, which at first I mistook 
for a crown, was the word Faith . 

“It was visitors’ day. Nobody ever 
visited me, but I watched silently. Oh 
God! I can recall every moment of that 
day, my beating, waiting heart; oh, Grace 
—faith ever more to me—I waited for you. 




SAVED BY A DREAM. 


168 


“I saw you with your friends, and I 
knew the picture of my dream. My wild 
heart throbbed so wildly I feared they 
would hear its cry. I saw them separate 
from you, and then I flew. I sprang 
through the air as no human being ever 
dared to do. I reached you. I touched 
you. I saw a look of horror freeze upon 
your face and thaw into one long look of 
tender pity. You know the rest. 

‘ ‘ I watched you as you walked away 
with my words in your bosom, as though 
you were an angel sent from God, who 
was bearing my written appeal straight 
upward to His mercy seat. 

“ Little did I dream what you must 
suffer to rescue me,” and she fell prone 
at Grace’s feet like one suddenly bereft of 
life. 

“Come, dear, see how plain it all is. 
It was the first prayer you had ever prayed 
in a broken spirit, relying and believing 
in his aid. He stooped, he listened, and 
straightway sent an angel in a dream to 



SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


169 


tell me where to go to save you; and, in 
order that all my sympathies might be 
awakened, He pictured to me for a moment 
the horrors you must endure if left to 
madden there, in that wild dream I dreamt 
that very night, and which I told at the 
meeting the evening before I was taken 
away,” said Grace. 

4 1 Since that hour I have waited like a 
little child,” Clara resumed. U I wait 
now the final doom.” 

They did not speculate nor speak of the 
future. They seemed to have reached a 
point where they must pause and silently 
contemplate the awful possibilities that 
awaited them. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 


Arnold’s anxiety. 

The silent, speedy work went on. It 
must be speedy; Paul was dying. Arnold 
looked at his brother, saw him dying by 
inches and suffered no more remorse than 
a tiger feels as it crushes its prey. The 
hours dragged on like days. Paul seldom 
left his room, never, unless his father-in- 

law, who remained in C-- to be near 

Grace, came and insisted upon taking him 
out for a drive. 

They had just returned from one of 
these drives one day, when they met 
Arnold much excited over the habeas cor¬ 
pus proceedings which first came to his 
knowledge through publication in the 
morning paper. He reasoned: The Court 
had issued the writ, which doubtless had 


170 




SAVED BY A DREAM. 


171 


been immediately served, returnable forth¬ 
with, and as he read it, he feared Clara 
was free. He took the paper and hasten¬ 
ing to Sarah, they held a consultation as 
to what method they should adopt to secure 
correct information. If Clara was free, 
where was she? She was almost without 
friends in the world and had no near 
relatives. 

Arnold kept his room almost the entire 
day. Wild fears began to dance through 
his brain, although he reasoned thus: 
Mike is dead. Yes, the murderer had 
returned and told him so, and he had paid 
the price he had agreed for the work, and 
then, soon afterwards, a floater had been 
found which tallied in all respects with 
this same Mike. 

Grace was dead beyond cavil of a doubt, 
still that face in the mirror was not the 
face of a spirit or a ghost, but the face of 
Grace in her usual health, sad and deter¬ 
mined. Still Grace was dead, this could 
only be the shadow of his thoughts, for 



172 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


though he had dreamed of her, the abduc¬ 
tion, the journey, the—murder; when he 
saw her, it was always as alive and well. 

And now for the first time he noticed 
this peculiar mental phenomenon. He 
had always read and heard, that murderers 
were haunted by a vision of their victims 
who invariably appeared to them in the 
form they were after being murdered by 
them, but Grace appeared to him in 
dreams just as he had always seen her in 
health, sometimes in her own home, some¬ 
times standing near Paul, sometimes with 
her children, twice with Crazy Clara. 

But then, could not all this be accounted 
for by the fact, that he had used neither 
ball or dagger, and had never seen her 
after her mangled body had dropped into 
its deep, dark grave? Yes, he would 
assure himself this was the cause, the true 
cause. It could not be otherwise. 

Grace was dead, and down there with 
her husband’s ring, that in the event 
anything ever occurred to make it neces- 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


173 


sary, it could prove that he, her husband, 
had done the deed. 

He hated Paul. Why? because he was 
a true man, a successful man, a man 
worthy of success. A younger brother 
more successful could not be tolerated by 
this fiend in human form. 

Yes, it might be necessary some time 
to rid himself of Paul. He had thought 
of it long and seriousfy. It was in his 
mind even when Grace’s wild scream 
caused him to drop her so suddenly into 
the pit, and he had dropped the ring 
where it could tell its own story. 

Many hours since then had been devoted 
to the plan of ridding himself some day 
of Paul. How easy it would be; for was 
it not Paul who had shown him this very 
pit three years before when they were out 
in the West looking for land to invest in 
for a ranch. 

Paul had discovered this very place and 
they had speculated upon what it was. 
Whether that wild country had once been 



174 


SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


inhabited and this was an unused well or 
whether parties had been prospecting for 
lead or coal. At any rate, it had served 
his purpose when he wanted it, and should 
Paul forget his grief and again begin to 
climb the ladder to success and fame, 
why, what thing easier done than to drop 
a hint to detectives, that he had gotten 
away w T ith his wife. How easy to recall 
this old well to some one and suggest its 
examination, and down there lying with 
her were the proofs. 

He knew what papers were with her, 
letters from Sarah to him, and yet, as his 
name was not used, they could be sup¬ 
posed to be to either of her brothers. 
Still there might be one that alluded to 
Clara. This thought obtruded itself 
and troubled him; and, as he sat there 
thinking, thinking, thinking, his mind 
drew vivid pictures of how it would all 
end. Paul in disgrace and shame, he, 
Arnold, untrammeled by the sight of both 
of them, free and happy. 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


*75 


Since early life Paul had been a thorn 
in his side that, as years passed on, be¬ 
came a festering sore; and all along he 
had told himself some day it would come 
to pass, that, like Cain, he must rise up 
and slay his brother Abel. 

Always, always when alone, this thought 
obtruded itself as a thing inevitable, and 
he was one of those fatalists who believe 
in predestination. If he was created to 
kill his brother, it was no fault of his; 
from the foundation of the world it had 
been so ordained, and, in slaying him, he 
would only be carrying out the plan of 
his Creator, and yet he believed himself a 
free moral agent in other things “ suffici¬ 
ent to stand, or free to fall.” 

Sarah had furthered all his plans in 
regard to Grace, for she hated Grace as 
he did. Besides, Grace had been a guid¬ 
ing star to Paul, and since their marriage 
Paul had led the same charmed life that 
this Grace threw around all she loved—no 
defeat was in store for her or hers death 



176 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


only could put an end to those fateful 
dreams of hers, that carried out as she 
demanded, and made the dreamer and her 
allies invincible. 

Sarah did not know his intentions to¬ 
ward Paul. She had found her influence 
over Paul lost upon his marriage to Grace, 
and upon her she poured out her hatred, 
and sought out a means of revenge. 
Arnold had carried out their mutual plans 
in regard to her. 

She had aided him in his schemes to 
rid himself of Clara. She it was who had 
been the strongest witness of this unfortu¬ 
nate woman’s idiosyncracies, and exag¬ 
gerated them into mania. 

Well, what of that, Sarah reasoned. 
Did Clara have a right to come into their 
family, beautiful, rich, perverse, and not 
scatter her gold among her husdand’s 
family ? No. 

Sarah had always hated everything bet¬ 
ter, nobler and more beautiful than herself. 
Secret, malicious, revengeful as a girl, dis- 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


177 


appointments in her schemes and plans 
then, had made her doubly so as a woman. 
Her brothers should divide their earnings 
among their own families and the wives 
should have only that which the parents 
and sisters didn’t want. That was the 
Norwood theory upon the female side of 
the house. Sarah possessed the idea to 
an unsual degree. 

She gave herself no concern about 
Arnold’s anxiety concerning the habeas 
corpus proceedings, although it occured to 
her as a remarkable fact following so soon 
after the putting away of Grace. But her 
nature was so obtuse in its coarseness 
that she could not see the hand-writing 
on the wall; and, had she done so, she 
could have braved it and said: U I am 
no dreamer nor believer in dreams, and 
the world of dreams is a land I have 
no desire to explore. I deal with facts 
and realities. Grace is dead. ’ ’ 

So it was that as these few days passed 
and Arnold’s face, sometimes gloomy, 



178 SAVED BY A DREAM. 


always resolute, sat opposite lier at table, 
sbe met Him in true Lady Macbeth style, 
taunting him with lack of courage, and 
giving him assurances of her own un¬ 
shaken nerve. 

Arnold became somewhat nervous at 
one time and meditated flight, but that 
unseen avenger chained him, and his evil 
genius, Sarah, fed him with hopes and 
laughed at his fears. 

“Suppose you go,” she said. “Does 
that not condemn you? No, stay! I 
shall go into the court-room and see her 
face to face. You , too, shall go and sit 
there like a man, calm, willing to hear 
her plea for freedom. If she gets it there 
is time enough for us to go and leave her 
to enjoy her freedom all alone. Why, who 
will live with her, if she is free?” 

“Yes, but the money? Suppose the 
Court says that must be paid over to her?” 
He asked as though he had one question 
that would trouble her to answer. 

“Prove that in her wreckless extrava- 



SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


179 


gance, before her derangement, she bad 
squandered it,” she sneered. 

Humph! There was no question within 
man’s scope to ask that this woman did 
not possess a ready answer to. That was 
not a bad suggestion either, and allayed 
her brother’s annoyance somewhat upon 
that score, and before the conversation 
was over, Arnold was decided to remain 
and appear in court, for what mattered 
it to him now if she were free, he had the 
money where it would puzzle anyone to 
reach it, indeed he could go on, and, with 
the business he had secured from Paul for 
the pittance he had paid, earn a neat 
little fortune. 



CHAPTER XIX. 


SOME PUZZLING QUESTIONS. 

All would have gone well and his mind 
remained perfectly at ease, had Sarah not 
asked this question during one conversa¬ 
tion: 

“ Arnold, who is the man who came 
here the evening you had the — the 
spell? I refer to the one who came 
directly after Mike. Indeed, I refer to 
him through whom you were ridden of 
Mike.” 

“Ah, well now, it is of little conse¬ 
quence. His work is done, and he is paid 
for it, and it isn’t likely he will turn up 
again. That kind don’t. He was a pro¬ 
fessional.” 

“A professional what?” asked Sarah, 
looking at him with that Medusa face. 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


181 


“Tell me that. Of all the men I ever 
saw that man’s face puzzled me most. 
Now tell me a professional what?” 

“ Slugger answered the dogged voice 
of her brother. 

Sarah, with fingers interlaced in her 
lap, dropped into a silent revere, and as 
Arnold studied her gray, granite-like 
features, he wondered more than once why 
she had asked this question, and his 
mind turned once more upon the man. 
Until then that man had passed out of his 
life when he paid him for his foul deed, 
disappeared as utterly as though the earth 
had opened and swallowed him. Now, 
why does Sarah asked this question? 

And from this point his mind went 
back to his first meeting with this man—a 
purely accidental thing. He had seen 
him lounging round with a suspicions 
looking character, and finally had in some 
way, he could not recall how, spoken to 
him. He had divined his business and 
made him confess it, and eventually 



i 82 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


promised to give him some work in his 
line. The fellow had done the work, 
earned his money, got his pay and gone 

— where? 

This all occurred the day before the 
hearing in court. So further delibera¬ 
tions were cut short by plans for — after 

— after what — after when —. A high 
wall seemed to stand up before his mental 
vision and contain those words written 
like a great show bill; but he was safe, 
Mike was dead, Grace was dead, and he 
had Clara’s money. The other fellow 
dare not appear, he had committed the 
murder. Well, well ! 

Again, the next morning his first 
thought was of flight, speedy flight, but 
as the murderer is always drawn by an 
invisible cord back to the scene of his 
crime, even after years have lapsed, so he 
was held near the woman he had wronged, 
curious to hear her pleadings; glad to 
know her weakness and his own power. 
And Sarah, where was she as the night 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


183 


waned? Sitting beside tbe open window, 
calm, rigid, plotting, planning with that 
busy brain, so fertil of evil, so barren of 
good. A Dore might have sketched the 
floating visions around her. Had he done 
so Grace’s face would have been seen in 
many phases; Clara’s too, for they forced 
themselves upon her with great persist¬ 
ency. No regret, no remorse, nothing 
but a vague fear of defeat came to her. 

Clara’s child (one had died) was in 
a convent. She didn’t want it, would not 
disturb it. She hated children and the 
care of them. She thought of it more as 
a care and worry to Clara, and hoped 
she’d find it a mean, troublesome, vicious 
creature. 

She thought of nothing but a plan to 
persecute and annoy Clara; in a secret 
hidden way, of course, because to the out¬ 
side world she would appear a woman 
still, with all the instincts of womanhood, 
a good sister, a devoted daughter, a self- 
sacrificing friend; but vaguely running 



184 


SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


through her mind was a plan of escape. 
Escape from what?—a feeling that she 
wanted to, and must go away somewhere, 
but she chided herself and when the 
morning dawned lay down to rest and 
sleep and forget it was the day—the day 
which was to open a new life to so many 
and bar the doors of the visible world to 
many—a red-letter day in the lives of 
some, a day with the black seal to the 
lives of others. 

While Arnold brooded over phantoms of 
his active brain and Sarah sat in her 
oaken chair fanning the flame of revenge 
and hate, Clara sat beside the window of 
her room gazing out into the starry 
heavens, waiting for the coming day. 

No sound could be heard but the muf¬ 
fled tread of the guard who paced the hall 
in front of her door. Grace’s room was 
next to hers and below them were their 
kind friends, the Agnostic doctor and his 
good wife. 

While sleep held the great city in her 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


185 


drowsy arms, Clara read all the pages of 
lier life-book over again, shuddering as 
she turned the leaves of that little volume. 

On the table beside her lay a Bible 
opened at the book of St. John, xvi. 
chapter, and the twenty-third to the 
twenty-ninth verses were marked, and 
she would turn from her silent revery and 
read them ever and anon: 

“Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in My 
name He will give it you. ’ ’ 

Grace had marked it and said: “The 
promise is given by One who cannot lie. 
Read, believe, ask in His holy name, and 
it shall be given.’’ 

For what did Clara ask to-night, look¬ 
ing up into heaven ? She asked for faith, 
the faith of a little child. She asked for 
wisdom, she asked for the comforter, “the 
spirit of truth.” 

Pale as a dead woman, for the sunlight 
had not touched her fair face for years, 
with starry eyes and floating, snowy hair, 
with her thin hands clasped upon the 



i86 


SAVED BY A DREAM . 


window sill and her eager face turned up¬ 
ward as though she expected to see the 
answer written far above, she sat there 
thanking God for deliverance and asking 
Him to guide her evermore. Thus she 
spent this last night. 

She had a strange, wild dread of the 
morrow whenever she ceased to pray. 
She dare not lie down to sleep. It would 
be sacreligious. This night of all nights 
belonged to Him, who had opened her 
prison door, in every thought. 

And Grace, where was she this last 
night? She need not sit beside the win¬ 
dow and gaze up at the glittering orbs 
above to see her God. Kneeling on the 
floor with her face buried in her hands 
and her eyes blind even to the stray 
moonbeams that fell about her, her ears 
deaf to the distant chimes that told of the 
passing hours, she, with eyes of faith, 
saw the Redeemer’s face, and in the 
ecstacy of her joy passed the hours of 
that- last night. The last! The last 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


IS 7 


night of banishment from her husband’s 
side. The last night the stain of her 
mysterious disappearance should cloud 
her name. The last night to pray alone. 
To-morrow, oh, to-day! to-night! her darl¬ 
ing’s arms should twine round her neck. 

When she opened her eyes she saw the 
morning dawn. The day at last had 
come. She rose up. 

Paul Norwood had spent a sleepless 
night, pacing the floor, or pausing at the 
window looking down into the street 
below. He had tried to pray, but mingl¬ 
ing with his supplications were thoughts 
of his broken home, his lost love, his dark 
future. He, so strong with her, so weak 
without her. Oh, such is human love. 
He could see the great spirit breathing 
upon the quivering leaves when her hand 
pointed it out. He could hear the silence 
speak when she paused and bade him 
listen. He could read the hand-writing 
on the wall when she marked it out 
without her his soul cried, 1 ‘ What am I? ” 



188 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


He looked out with, sickening dread 
when the busy world awoke and the street 
noises again greeted bis ear. 

u Another day begun. Great God!— 
Grace’s God—have mercy upon my 
soul.” 

Aimlessly be descended the stairs. 
Silently be ate his breakfast with Arnold 
and Sarah. 

The hearing would come off at io a. m. 
They would take a carriage and all go to 
court together. As they descended the 
steps into the street a newsboy yelled, 
“Morning paper; all about the hearing 
in the case of Crazy Clara,” and running 
up to Arnold he said, u Paper, sir; all 
about the man who put his wife in the 
insane asylum to get her money.” 

u Go along,” said Arnold, aiming a 
savage kick at the eager urchin, who lit¬ 
tle dreamed to whom he spoke. 

As the carriage rolled along the street, 
those three were silent. Of what could 
they -speak. 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


189 


It was not the hand of fate that pointed 
out the way to the temple'of justice. By 
the command of the Eternal and Ever¬ 
lasting God had those hits been placed 
into those horses mouths. By His ever¬ 
lasting decree the coachman held the reins 
and urged their course. 



CHAPTER XX. 


THE HEARING. 

The court-room was crowded to over¬ 
flowing. Police guarded the doors. All 
lovers of the sensational who could, had 
secured seats early, for it was rumored 
that something rare was to be developed, 
something more than the story of how 
a woman who was not insane, had been 
immured in an insane asylum. Buzz, 
buzz, buzz! 

The court was called to order, and for a 
moment a deathlike stillness reigned. A 
pale, beautiful woman was the load-star 
that turned all eyes upon her. Paul Nor¬ 
wood sat besides his brother, and seemed 
for the first time to have forgotten his own 
sorrow. 

Arnold started and felt a peculiar annoy¬ 
ance to see Grace’s father and his attorney 



SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


191 

sitting not far from Clara, and although 
he knew he did not even know his wife and 
had never seen her before, he was more 
annoyed at the presence of that firm, reso¬ 
lute old man, than all the eager faces bent 
upon him. 

Then his eyes rested with peculiar fas¬ 
cination upon the veiled figure of a woman 
who sat near old Mr. LaMotte, and by the 
side of the ‘ t Agnostic doctor. ’ ’ An uneasy, 
restless feeling, followed by a sensation of 
smothering, came upon him, but the 
pressure of Paul’s hand or a look from 
Sarah’s stern eyes recalled him. 

“Your honor,” said Clara’s attorney, 
addressing the Court, “we are now pre¬ 
pared to present this matter for a hearing. 
Everything is in readiness and for the 
sake of my client we will be as speedy as 
possible. 

“Here she is! Behold her! Hear her 
statement from her own lips. She is cap¬ 
able of pleading her own cause, though 
so recently released from an insane asylum 



192 


SAVED BY A DREAM . 


where she had been immured for six long 
years.” 

He led her to the witness stand, and as 
the full light fell upon her pale face and 
white hair, which gave a peculiarly touch¬ 
ing effect to the beautiful features, there 
was a murmur through the crowd which 
bode ill to the husband. 

u Your honor, does this lady look like 
a maniac ? ’ ’ 

Clara turned her calm eyes upon the 
judge. Their look of long suffering did 
not dim the clear, bright intellect that 
shone in their depths as he met her gaze, 
and his glance at Arnold was ominous. 

Arnold seemed like one in a trance, and 
at times looked about him with the expres¬ 
sion of a man awaking from a deep sleep, 
half believing the scene about him to be 
unreal; a picture the mind retains of a 
weird dream. 

He had not seen Clara for years. He 
had hoped never to see her again, not to 
hear her voice! He had looked forward 



SVED BY DEEM. 


193 


to a day, when the authorities of the asy¬ 
lum might announce her death. There 
would be a small funeral train, a hearse 
bearing a casket that contained all that 
linked his life to fear, and then !— 

But what strange fatalities attend the 
lives of some. That pale, pure face so 
near him now, was Clara’s. Those calm, 
bright eyes looking straight into the 
judge’s face, were Clara’s eyes; and that 
form, now raised with something of its old 
unbending pride, was the form of Clara. 

She gave a clear, concise statement of 
her early life, her first meeting with 
Arnold, their courtship, marriage, and her 
last illness and her incarceration, not 
sparing herself and blaming her husband, 
but telling in clear, vivid language, the 
story of her wrongs as though she was a 
third person. 

Clara avoided in her statement anything 
sensational or as tending to appeal to the 
sympathy of the Court. She stood there 
telling the simple truth and trusting to 



194 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


the justice she knew she must now receive. 
She spoke of her property, its value, etc., 
and when she had finished, her attorney 
asked that the husband be ordered to 
restore to her every dollar with interest, 
stating, to the dismay of Arnold, exactly 
where said property might be located and 
attached, and as he proceeded, Arnold felt 
that somehow the walls were becoming too 
narrow and the crowd of faces were pressing 
too close upon him. When her attorney 
said: 

u Your honor, we are aware, that no 
man commits a crime without a motive. 
The motive is evident, this lady’s fortune 
was the goal to be reached through this 
manner of ridding himself of her. We 
proceed now to show his methods. We have 
witnesses to confirm this lady’s statement. 
We call our next witness.” 

As the door opened all who observed 
him saw Arnold Norwood rise suddenly to 
his feet and then sink down into his chair 
pale to the lips, and the lips of Sarah 




SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


*95 


twitched convulsively as she gazed with 
stony eyes at the witness, who was sworn 
and testified as follows: 

Q. u What is your full name ? ’’ 

A. u Michael Donovan. ’ ’ 

Q. u Where were you employed last 
June.” 

A. u At the insane asylum.’’ 

Q. “ In what capacity ? ’ ’ 

A. u To do most anything, from act¬ 
ing porter, to cutting grass.” 

Q • “ Who gave you employment ? ’ ’ 

A. “ The resident physician. ’ ’ 

Q. “Where were you the 30th day of 
last June?” 

A. “ At the asylum.” 

Q. “ Are you acquainted with Arnold 
Norwood ?” 

A. “Yes, sir.” 

Q. “ What person outside of the asy¬ 
lum did you see that morning?” 

A. “Mr. Arnold Norwood.” 

Q. u Go on and relate as briefly as pos¬ 
sible, any conversation you had with him. ’ 7 



196 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


A. “He came to the asylum in a 
buggy that morning. I was just after 
opening the gate when he drove up. He 
said, 4 Mike, I want you to do something 
for me.’ Says I, ‘is there money in it?’ 
He said, ‘Yes, if you do it well—big 
money.’ ‘Then,’ says I, ‘ I’m your man.’ 
‘I want you,’ said he, ‘to watch around 
the office to-day and see who comes here, 
and if this woman comes (he took a pho¬ 
tograph out of his pocket and handed it 
to me), and signs the name written to 
that, you just come quick and tell me.’ I 
looked good at the picture and read the 
name and stuck it into my shirt bosom.” 
Q. “ Where is that photograph, Mike ? ’ ’ 

A. “That is more than I kin tell ye. 
It was took from me when I was arrested. ’ ’ 
Arnold sat bolt upright. It was evi¬ 
dent he was under a fearful strain. 

Q. “Well, Mike, goon.” 

A. “Well, sir, that very woman came 
along that day with two others, and I 
watched her sign her name on the visitors 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


197 


book and I followed her just as soon as I 
could. I saw her separate from her friends 
and the doctor who was going around with 
them, and stop to talk to one of the pati¬ 
ents that was called “Crazy Clara.” I 
didn’t get to hear much that was said. 
Quick as I could I shoved Crazy Clara into 
a room and then the doctor came back 
with the other two and they all went off 
together. That afternoon I hunted Mr. 
Arnold and told him what had happened. 
He studied awhile, and then said, that he 
wanted me to go with him some place off 
on the cars, and that I must fix up some¬ 
thing to tell the doctor, so he would let 
me off. He told me where to meet him. 
I went. 

“I drove the carriage and he sat inside. 
He told me where to go and when to stop. 
The only critter I saw when we stopped, 
was a slim woman just ahead of ns with 
her back turned to us, waiting for a street 
car. He got out easy like and rushed up 
behind her. In a twinkle he had her 



198 


SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


in that carriage and I dashed off. He 
had a bottle of chloroform and some 
of these eye sealers. We took a train at 

P-and got off at-in Missouri. 

He kept her quiet and dead-like. When 

we got to-we took another rig and 

drove out to a wooded place where there 
be no houses, only trees and brush. There 
we stopped and took the woman out and 
carried her a few yards to an old well or 
coal shaft. 

‘ ‘ He was a going to lower her with a 
rope to see how deep the place was, but 
when we got the rope fixed she seemed to 
come to life and to understand what was 
going on, and she gave a wild scream and 
clung to him and tore his coat, so that 
papers like letters tumbled out of his 
pocket. He gave a big oath and let go 
the rope, and she tumbled down the pit 
carrying all the rope along with her.” 

Paul Norwood breathed heavily. He 
had fallen back sick and faint in his chair. 
Ladies fanned themselves vigorously and 






SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


I99 

leaned forward with flushed cheeks and 
parted lips, and men muttered in sup¬ 
pressed excitement. 

Q. “ What did yon do then ?” 

A. “ Come back to C-, took the 

money he gave me and lived high for. 
awhile. The very night after I was at 
his house last to get more money from 
him, I was arrested and have been in the 
holdover ever since.’’ 

Q. “ Very well, Mike; step down.” 

Mike tried to catch Arnold’s eye, but 
its stony gaze was riveted upon the veiled 
woman who sat just back of old Mr. 
LaMotte and beside the Agnostic doctor. 

Heavens ! how pale he was when the 
door opened and the next witness appeared. 
Sarah’s gray lips twitched convulsively. 
A strange sound gurgled in Arnold’s 
throat and his parched tongue refused to 
moisten his feverish lips. 

The witness, being sworn, stated in a 
clear voice his name, 

“william burke.” 

Q. “What is your business?” 





200 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


A. “ Detective.” 

Q. u Where were you the ioth day of 
July about 5 o’clock of that afternoon?” 

A. “ I went by appointment to the resi¬ 

dence of Mr. Arnold Norwood.” 

Q. “ How long had you known him?” 

A. “ Only a short time.” 

Q. “Did Mr. Norwood know your 
business ? ’ ’ 

A. “ Certainly not. ’ ’ 

Q. “What did you go to his house 
for?” 

A. “ I had agreed to do a piece of work 
for him, and I went there by his appoint¬ 
ment, to find out who the man was, where 
he could be found, and what price he 
would pay me for the job.” 

Q. “ What job do you refer to ?” 

A. “ He wanted me to put a man out 
of the way—slug him, and then throw 
him into the lake.” 

Q. “ Did you put him out of the way? ” 

A. “ Yes sir; but not in the way he 
proposed, you know, for I arrested him. 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


201 


I was ordered to shadow Arnold Norwood 
and prevent him from leaving the country. 
He observed me, and after several conver¬ 
sations he offered me 1 a job in my line’ 
as he said, supposing me, (as I wanted he 
should), to be a slugger.” 

Q. u From whom did yon get your 
instructions ? ’ ’ 

A. “ From the chief.” 

Q. 11 Then you were the man who 
took the photograph from him?” 

A. “ Yes sir.” 

Q. “ Have you that photograph?” 

A. “ Yes sir.” 

Q. 11 Will you produce it ?” 

The witness produced a photograph and 
handed it to the attorney, who, going 
near to Arnold Norwood held it so both 
Arnold and Paul could see it plainly. A 
cry burst from Paul’s pale lips, he reached 
out his arm with a spasmodic gesture for 
it and the attorney gave it to him. 

Q. “That is all Mr. Burke.” 

“ Your Honor, we have but two more 



202 


SAVED BY A DDE AM. 


witnesses. ’ ’ He led tlie veiled lady to tlie 
stand. 

Paul’s eyes were riveted on the picture. 
Arnold’s gaze never left the veiled figure 
who was now being sworn. 

The judge, turning respectfully and 
with evident interest toward her said : 

u Please raise your veil madam, that 
we may hear you distinctly, and state your 
name in full.” 

“ GRACES LA MOTTE NORWOOD.” 

Paul sprang to his feet as though the 
Picture in his hand had uttered in those 
musical tones its own name. Old Mr. 
LaMotte laid his hand upon his shoulder 
and gently pressing him down in his 
chair, said: 

“A moment,my son. Listen to what 
the world must know to wipe away the 
stain yonder coward has put upon your 
wife’s fair name.” 

Every eye turned curiously upon Grace, 
whose appearance had had the effect of an 
electric shock upon the eager crowd, and 









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SAVED BY A DEE AM. 


203 


whispers and subdued exclamations ceased 
only when she began to speak. Then a 
deathlike silence came and only her clear 
voice was heard while hundreds listened 
with bated breath. 

She related the facts clearly and con¬ 
cisely, describing her visit to the asylum, 
her short interview with “Crazy Clara,’’ 
Mrs. Arnold Norwood, her abduction, 
unconsciously drawing a picture so strong 
and vivid of the whole scene, her moment 
of consciousness before they threw her 
into the cave, the long hours she spent 
there, and her escape, that the pulse of 
her listeners was raised to fever heat. 

Then Grace’s attorney rose and said: 
“Your honor sees at once the significance 
of this whole case. The deep plot of 
Arnold Norwood to rid himself of his 
wife, his foul attempt not only to murder 
his brother’s wife, but to throw a black 
stain upon her character. 

“Your honor further sees, that we have 
pursued the only course through which 




204 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


we could give due weight to this heinous 
crime and at the same time lift the cloud 
from the fair name of Mrs. Paul Norwood, 
which has been published all over the 
land. We say nothing now of our care 
to prevent this man’s escape had he 
attempted it. 

“You will perceive, we have full evi¬ 
dence of the truth of Mrs. Grace Nor¬ 
wood’s statement in every particular. My 
visit in company with her father and 
officers of the law to the cave where she 
was thrown; there is not a missing link 
in the chain of evidence against Arnold 
Norwood, and we have forged the chain so 
closely there is no possibility of escape. 
I believe all the matters in the case are in 
evidence and will appear at the proper 
time. 

The Judge: “Before leaving the wit¬ 
ness stand I would like to ask Mrs. Paul 
Norwood one question.” 

Grace bowed. 

44 During our civil war did you ever see 



SAVED BY A DREAM. 


205 


a guerrilla chieftain named Hal W-?” 

Grace blushed wonderingly and ans¬ 
wered: “Yes, sir.” 

“Tell us what you know of him.” 

A. “I only know that he was a brave 
man who was driven from home, hunted 
down like a wolf, wounded and left to die 
of starvation. I was only 13 years old 
when I found him lying in a wood adjoin¬ 
ing my father’s farm. I carried him food, 
I gave him blankets and took him in my 
own little pony phaeton to the place where 
he met his friends.” 

Q. “Why did you do this?” 

A. “Because he was a human being. 
I was too young to know anything of 
politics.” 

Q. “Well, what then?” 

A. “I was banished from the State, 
my father’s property was confiscated, and 
we were left very poor after the war, 
which ended soon after this.” 

Q. “ Did you ever hear of him again? ’ ’ 

A. “Yes, your Honor, he wrote me a 



206 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


long letter of thanks—I have it yet—tell¬ 
ing me he would never perhaps see me 
again, but that he left me a large fortune. 
I never heard of the fortune. He, poor 
fellow, died, and I know where his grave 
is.” 

Q. “You found some treasures, or 
money, in that cave into which you were 
thrown?” 

A. “I did.” 

Q. “And there was a will?” 

A. “Yes, your Honor, I heard my 
father say so, I never saw it.” 

Q. “That was the will of the guer¬ 
rilla chief, and all that money was left to 
Little Grace LaMotte, who is yourself, 
Mrs. Norwood?” 

There was np answer. A wild shriek 
was heard and Arnold Norwood beat the 
air with both arms and fought back the 
demons that, in imagination, surrounded 
him, and then went tearing through the 
crowd, a maniac, indeed. 

In the excitement and crowd another 






38 


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M 




















\\\ 






*v> 






1 














































































. 

























































- 































SAVED BY A DREAM. 


207 


strode away to Hide Herself forever from 
tHe Hateful gaze of men, to find oblivion 
and forgetfulness of tHose two faces. 

No tHougHt of Paul’s gladness, no sor¬ 
row for Arnold’s woe came to her. Self, 
only self, now Hurried Her away, to be lost 
to the world—forgotten like an evil wind. 
Thus Sarah Norwood fled. 



CHAPTER XXI. 


OMEGA. 

There was indeed a sensation for the 
readers of the daily papers for many days 
to come, and as the public read and re-read 
Grace and Paul were happy in their 
re-nnion, which rapidly brought health to 
the almost shattered man. 

When the guerrilla’s fortune was legally 
put into Grace’s possession, she said to 
her husband: 

u You are not strong enough for busi¬ 
ness yet. Besides, what need has the 
business world for you ? The opening 
gives another struggling fellow creature a 
chance. Let us seek out a quiet home, 
away from the noise and strife of the busy 
world, giving all our remaining days to 
Him who has guided us, who has made us 
so happy in each others love. And earn- 


SAVED BY A DDE AM. 


209 


estly they sought out a spot upon which 
to build their home, and there to unite 
their hearts and live in striving to do the 
will of Him who had given them such 
special evidences of His divine love and 
protection. 

Grace loved her husband with a perfect 
love, a love born of God’s love, a love that 
recognizes the dependence of its object 
upon it, and Paul received Grace back to 
his arms with an almost superstitious rev¬ 
erence, as one who had walked alone with 
God and had been sent back to lead him 
up to heaven. 

And to-day, travelers passing by point 
out this earthly paradise and over to Cla¬ 
ra’s home beside it, and pause and tell the 
story of how one was buried in the asylum 
and how in a dream the other was told to 
rescue her; and they tell how Clara’s hus¬ 
band died in the very place he incarcerated 
her, soon after she was free. 

They do not mingle much with the out¬ 
side world, but grave men, and learned 



210 


SAVED BY A DREAM. 


men, good men and great men and women 
pass in and out of their doors. Whole 
evenings are spent in happy communion 
of souls that have soared up from the 
grosser things of life; those who have 
learned it is a noble thing to live, and that 
it is a grander thing to die. 

Clara and Grace are devoted friends, and 
if these two women believe in the strange 
voices that came to them in dreams and 
devoutly hearken to them, can we blame 
them ? 

If those two draw near to each other, 
filled with that mysterious presence which 
drew their lives together, believing in the 
shadowy dreamland where first they met, 
and in the solemn lesson therein taught, 
that the Eternal and Everlasting made 
them then no longer strangers but kindred 
spirits, and sent the one to rescue the other 
in His name from her living tomb, if one 
looks upon the other as her heaven-sent 
deliverer, and the other believes herself 
the earthly guardian of that one, shall 



SAVED BY A DREAM . 


211 


those who never penetrated that mystic 
land, who have never heard the silence 
speak, judge them? 

If Paul Norwood looks into his wife’s 
eyes and knows they have already seen 
what he must see long after, and that she 
hears strange whisperings that his ears 
are yet too dull to hear, when she unfolds 
the scroll and reads therefrom the uner¬ 
ring way, shows him the paths that angels 
feet have trod and marks the shining way 
that begins in their quiet home and has 
no end, but circles through all the myriads 
of glittering worlds above and back to 
earth again, if he believes it and is blest 
and happy, shall we judge him? Shall 
we give a name to that mysterious some¬ 
thing which separates these favored people 
from the daily cares of life and bathes their 
souls in that illuminated space through 
which they float at will ? Shall we ? 


THE End 





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DANGEROUS GROUND; or, The Rival Detectives. 

A thrilling story of 426 pages, with 45 full-page illustrations. 
“A fascinating plot handled in a masterly fashion—not a dull page or 
line in it.” 

OUT OF A LABYRINTH. 

471 pages with 36 full-page illustrations. The Post writes: 
“The man who wrote ‘Dangerous Ground’ could not wri a tame 
book if he tried !” 

THE DIAMOND COTERIE. 

557 pages and 47 full-page illustrations. A fully organized gang 
of malefactors with a cunning ex-detective at is head, are “run 
down” by an officer of uncommon skill and undaunted bravery. 
Ready October, 1891. 

A MOUNTAIN MYSTERY; or, The Outlaws of the Rockies. 

600 pages with 36 full-page illustrations. The tale unfolds itself 

• among the reckless adventurers who ruled the Rocky Mountains be¬ 
fore the creation of the Pacific R. R. Ready November, 1891. 


Readers of good literature are advised to procure Eaird 8c Eee’S 
Publications, as they are printed in large type on excellent paper, pro¬ 
fusely illustrated, and bound in solid and attractive colors, 

SOLD BY ALL NEWSDEALERS AND UPON ALL TRAINS, OR SUPPLIED 

BY THE PUBLISHERS. 

LAIRD <& LEE, Chicago. 


AD. B. 











The Library of Choice Fiction. 


CHOICE IN READING MATTER. 

CHOICE IN ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Choice in every thing that Constitutes A. i Books. 

MADEMOISELLE de MAUPIN. 

By Th6ophile Gautier. It is considered by every critic in the 
world to be the very finest romance of the century. 413 pages; 16 
illustrations from the original etchings by Toudouze. 

CAMILLE. 

By Alexandre Dumas, fils. This world-famed book is illustrated 
with 16 half-tone engravings from original French etchings. Ex¬ 
quisite cover in colors. 

A. D. 2000. 

By Lieut. Alvarado M. Fuller, U. S. A. 412 pages; 16 half-tone 
illustrations on enameled paper. “A fascinating narrative of what 
the near future has in reserve for our descendants.” 

NOTRE C(EUR. 

By Guy de Maupassant, the celebrated French novelist. Trans¬ 
lated by Alexina Loranger. With 12 photo-gravures on enameled 
paper, including the author’s portrait. An admirable Parisian story. 

PIERRE ET JEAN. (Peter and John.) 

By Guy de Maupassant, author of “ Bel-Ami.” A striking novel 
of deep pathos, illustrated with eight half-tones on enameled paper. 

THE RICH MAN’S FOOL. 

By Robert C. Givins. An American story of startling adventures. 
430 pages, with 17 photo-gravures on enameled paper. 

THE CHOUANS. 

By Honors de Balzac, the head and chief of modern fiction. New 
translation by George Saintsbury; with 100 wood engravings by 
Leveill6, from sketches by Julian Le Blant. 

SUCH IS LIFE. 

By Albert Delpit, author of “Her Sister’s Rival,” illustrated with 
sixteen pen drawings. Albert Delpit is a Louisiana-born Creole who 
ranks among the best modem French writers. 

AN UNCONSCIOUS CRIME. 

By Dr. N. T. Oliver, author of the “King of Gold.” With six¬ 
teen full-page illustrations. The press, all over the country, has 
spoken very highly of this last work from the pen of this talented 
writer. 

A CHRONICLE OF THE REIGN OF CHARLES IX. 

By Prosper M4rim£e, translated by George Saintsbury. Illus¬ 
trated with 100 engravings on wood from drawings by Toudouze. 


Readers of good literature are advised to procure Laird 8c Lee’s 
Publications, as they are printed in large type on excellent paper, pro¬ 
fusely illustrated, and bound in solid and attractive colors. 

SOLD BY ALL NEWSDEALERS AND UPON ALL TRAINS, OR SUPPLIED 

BY THE PUBLISHERS. 

LAIRD <2 LEE, Chicago. 


AS. 0. 



Recent Publications. 


Such is I/ife. (Comme dans la vie.) By Albert Delpit. 
Translated from the French by Alexina Loranger. Illus¬ 
trated with eight halftones from original drawings . 


“Such is Life,” by Albert Delpit, is an exceedingly clever story. As a psy¬ 
chical analysis of a remarkable character it is highly praiseworthy. Roland, 
the hero of the first ten chapters, and for whom the reader’s sympathies are 
thoroughly enlisted, commits an involuntary murder while struggling with a 
morphmemamac. So far there seems to have been nothing blameworthy in his 
conduct. After this, however, he entirely alienates the reader’s sympathies, first 
by robbing the corpse of a large sum of money, and. secondly, by knowingly marry¬ 
ing the daughter of his victim. Much of the interest of this story is centered 
around this ill-omened marriage, and some very strong situations are developed. 
In these days of feeble plots, faulty construction and twaddling chatter, “Such is 
Life,” is to be welcomed with delight. The work is full of dramatic situations, 
and when once taken up is not likely to be put down till finished .”—Detroit News. 

“It is an interesting story of the modern French school .”—Omaha Bee. 

“The story is interesting and intensely so.” —Louisville Times. 

“The working of the hero’s mind is graphically portrayed and the whole Is 
very interesting .”—New Orleans Picayune. 

“An exciting novel .”—Kansas City Journal. 

“It is a novel that can be taken up and read with a great deal of satisfaction, 
for it is bright, well written and exceedingly interesting .”—San Francisfio Call. 


Whom God Hath Joined. By Frank Cahom. 

“It is the story of a beautiful woman, reared in an atmosphere of wealth, 
luxury and refinement, who gradually comes to maintain toward her husband, ft 
physician, whom she, by her wealth, had raised to a position of prominence in the 
world a coldness only saved from insolence by a ceremonious shading or polite¬ 
ness Interest in the novel centers in the sympathy and admiration for the beau¬ 
tiful but neglected wife shown by one named Cellier: and the attentions paid Dy 
the heartless husband for an unprincipled and immoral young woman 
whose fortune he seeks to possess and squander as he did that of the woman ne 
wed To do this, infidelity is charged. A separation follows, and soon after the 
cruel physician meets death at the hands of Cellier. The novel is well written. 

—Pittsburg Press. 

“A very pretty story that cannot fail to enteitain the reader.” San Fran¬ 
cisco Call. 

“It is well written .”—Kansas City Times. 

“The story is dramatic and thrilling. It is a story of life which is ,^otP lea ®^ 
to look upon, but which we are are all compelled to think about. • St. Louis 
Post-Dispatch 


LAIRD & LEE, PUBLISHERS, CHICAGO 





Recent Publications 


Money. (I/’argent.) By Emile Zola. Translated from the 
French by Max Maury. Illustrated. 

“Only Zola could do justice to that execrable condition of thing* in France 
due to the policy of the third Empire. The policy was atrocious, because the 
principles of the Emperor and all around him were rotten. The combination of 
lies, treachery, avarice, ambition, revenge, which was cloaked now by patriotism, 
dow by religion, is laid bare by Zola’s genius for realism, in his novel entitled 
“Money.” It shows an aspect of Paris which is well worth knowing in view of 
the glory in which it is usually wrapped by the lovers of fashion and gaiety.” 
—Pittsburg Times. 

“This is a powerful tale showing the life of the stock gambler on the Paris 
Bourse. While what is called “realistic,” it is free from the grossness that dis¬ 
figures many of its author’s former books, but it contains some startling and 
even revolting incidents .”—Philadelphia Bulletin. 

“Emile Zola’s new novel, “Money,” is a realistic and dramatic study of the 
V^)rld of finance, centering at the Paris bourse. The story is a vivid description 
of the rise and decline of an all-powerful banking concern, which, through public 
infatuation, has rapidly won control of the market, as suddenly crumbles, carry¬ 
ing along with it to its abyss of ruin its thousands of stockholders. Into the 
romance is woven a fine thread of Zolaistic love and socialism, skillfully devel¬ 
oped into an entrancing tal q."—M inneapolis Tribune. 

“Zola paints in vivid language the despair of ruined depositors and the wide¬ 
spread misery resulting from the failure of a bank in which the poor as well as 
the rich had been eager to invest their savings, lured by the promise of enormous 
dividends .’'—Detroit Tribune. 


An Unconscious Crime. By Dr. N. T. Oliver, author of 
li The King of Gold ” etc. Illustrated with 16 reproductions 
of pen drawings by Henry Mayer. 


,, , l P r * N- T. Oliver has written a marvelous work. Marvelous from the fact 
that he has embodied within its covers so many varied and unhackneyed scenes. 
1 he entertainment and vivid portrayals which are distributed throughout the short 
prologue will excite the curiosity enough to justify a perusal of the whole volume. 
±>ut this is not where the interest ends, and the reader cannot be censured for 
reeling a choking sensation as the tragic tale is unfolded. The minute descrip- 
V 0 j of ? g amblln g den is not too long, nor does it grow tiresome. Albert 
Andrew s sea voyage and love chat with Mrs. Francis Norton shows the plain wit 
possessed by this loveable lady, while her frankness of speech may astound some 
or the more timid who have, at some period of their lives, tried the art of love 
making. The unconscious crime that falls to the fate of these two in after years 
firings many weights of woe upon themselves, and their children live to see their 
once happy home swept away, and are themselves shadowed with illegitimacy. 
1 . mme 18 embellished with illustrations which serve to demonstrate the 

author s power of word painting, and lends a familiarity to the characters.”— 
Lalifornia Family Ledger. 


A bright novel, brought out in attractive form.”— Cincinnati Enquirer. 

PhiladBflhia^P/ rmakes a strong presentment of the social evil he aims at,”- 


LAIRD & LEE, PUBLISHERS, CHICAGO. 





RECENT PUBLICATIONS 


The Youngest Brother. A Socialistic Romance. 
By Ernst IVichert. Translated from the French by 
Kannida. Illustrated by He?iry Mayer. 

“Ernst Wichert’s novel ‘The Youngest Brother,’ is called a socialistic 
romance, but there is not much socialism about it. A younger brother who 
has become a mechanic, falls among socialists, who naturally do him plenty 
of harm when he tries to set up as a capitalist. The police (it is in Germany) 
interfere with him, and finally make him a domiciliary visit and capture a 
dangerous character in his rooms. The hero’s elder brothers are highly 
respectable, and of course he scandalizes them. All things considered, he 
gets in the end a good deal better position than he seems to deserve. The 
tale is well written, and the military and official classes might find in its 
pages more sarcastic and satirical references to their own habits and tend¬ 
encies than would perhaps be altogether agreeable.”— New York Tribune. 

“It is a clever, well told tale.”— Chicago Times. 

“It is an interesting book, well worth reading.”—Son Francisco Call. 

“Well worth reading.”— St. Louis Republic. 

“The story is of the deepest interest and well rendered into English.” 

—National Tribune. 

“Both author and translator are deserving of high commendation.” 

—Detroit News. 


Behind a Mask. By Louise Battles Cooper. 

“ ‘Behind a Mask,’is a society novel. It has all the dash and vivacity of a 
French novel, but one of our own countrywomen smokes a cigarette, drives 
the fast horses, and is the bon camarade of her male friends, addressing 
them by their surnames. Under this exterior lives the tender-hearted 
woman, with a keen sense of honor and a high moral standard. The book 
is well written, and the interest is sustained to the end.”— Boston Globe. 

“This is a very well written story. "—New Orleans Picayune. 

“An entertaining novel.”— Cincinnati Enquirer. 

“The style of the writer is easy as well as lively, and there are few dull 
pages in it .’’—Grand Rapids Democrat. 

“It will be welcomed by the readers of fiction. It is well written and in¬ 
teresting.”— San Francisco Call. 

“It is well written, succinct and clean. . .a clever story, well worth 
reading.”— Kansas City Banner. 


LAIRD & LEE, Publishers, Chicago 





RECENT PUBLICATIONS 


The Rich Man’s Fool. By Robert C. Givins, 

Atcthor of i( The Millionaire Tramp,” etc. i2mo, 
Paper Covers. Illustrated with 77 half-tone Illus¬ 
trations on enameled paper. 

This story is sufficiently unique to be very entertaining. So many 
things have been accomplished by modern surgery that it sounds very 
reasonable and almost probable, even while one is fully conscious of its 
manifest absurdity. The ‘‘rich man’s” only son, in the prime of life and 
health, becomes demented. The family physician finds a fugitive Russian 
of noble birth but extremely poor, who consents to an operation which will 
end his own existence, on consideration of a large sum paid to his family, 
rhe operation consists in removing the brain from the young man’s head 
and substituting the brains of the Russian; and a medical student, standing 
by, complicates matters by putting the young man’s brains in the Russian’s 
head. Both operations are successful with the unforeseen result that the 
young man is now a Russian count, pining after his wife and daughters, 
and the count is a hopeless imbecile. The complication is worked around 
to a very pleasant ending. 

‘‘An interesting novel with a plot quite unique in fiction.” 

—Chicago Daily News. 

‘‘Exceedingly interesting, and cannot fail to win the attention of the 
reader.”— Utica Daily Press. 

‘‘The interest of the reader is kept up to the end.” 

—Rochester Post-Express. 


The Cartaret Affair. By St. George Rathborne y 

Author of “Doctor fack , ” etc. Illustrated with 16 
reproductions of pen and ink drawings by Henry Mayer. 

“Mr. Rathborne weaves a web of intensely interesting, because perfectly 
natural fiction. It will be found far above the average novel.” 

— St. Louis Republic. 

"It is a book of the most absorDing interest.”— San Francisco Call. 

"In the composition of ideas the book reminds one of the best examples o 1 
the French detective writers.”— Louisville Times. 

“The plot is well involved and skillfully writt enP-New Orleans Picayune 
"The story is well told.”— New York Herald. 

"Better written than the majority of works of its kind.” 

—Kansas City Times 

“It is ingeniously worked out.”— Chicago Times. 


LAIRD & LEE, Publishers, Chicago 





RECENT PUBLICATIONS 


A. D. 2000. By Lieut. A. M. Fuller, U. S.’A. 

resting book gives us a reoord of events through- 
w ^ Put 6 Y ear with a history of all that occurred betweettnow and then. 
^ 6 + u“LT 6 l mT e l 2 a w ^ nd , er £ ul age ' but that of the year2000throws us far 
into the pale. The New York Herald says that this is the clearest look ahead 
that has yet been put into print. The author has exercised great ingenuity 
and Inventive faculty, and produced a story that old and young will equally 

U1 °t t d b °° k iS pnnted from lar ^ e ty P e on £° od Paper, and is fully 


SOME OPINIONS OF THE PRESS : 

“Decidedly engaging. . .one reads it with satisfaction and profit.” 

—PittsburQ Times. 

“Well written and interesting .”—San Francisco Report. 

“Very fluent and pleasing in style .”—Chicago Times. 

“The story is well written.”— Washington Gazette. 

“Original in idea and plot .”—Pittsburg Press. 

“The book has strong narrative merit .”—Kansas City Times. 

“Equal to anything that has ever been produced by Jules Verne. . .a 
most ingenious story.”—San Francisco Call. 

“Good imagination and ingenious description.”—New York Sun. 

“Very Interesting.”—New York News. 


Germinie Lacerteux. By Edmond and Jules de 

Goncourt. Translated from the French by H. E. M. 

Printed on fine paper from large type , and illustrated 

with io reproductions of the original French etchings. 

, “This is a translation of a novel in the French language, and is a story, 
not of fashionable life, but one of the street, one which is a study of love. 
It is of a woman who was the servant of an elderly Miss, who for a long time 
was extremely faithful to her mistress, but who at last became enamored 
of a man, a worthless fellow, who robbed her of all her hard-earned earn¬ 
ings In order that he might live a life of ease and pleasure. The story par¬ 
takes a little of that sensationalism which French writers deem essential to 
proper presentation of a work of fiction, yet is not of the class that shocks. 
The story is well told, and the translation is almost faultless.” 

—San Francisco CaU. 

It is a well executed English version of one of those tales of the utter 
devotion of a woman of the lower social grade to an every way unworhy 
ruffian, a devotion that takes no account of self or of God or man, which are 
always revolting, and yet, when struck out by the hand of an artist, are in 
a quite different way so pitiably touching. It is a strange pioture of life, It 
draws, but one cannot escape the conviction that in its main features it is 
founded in some substantial truth. For ite terse, vivid, striking manner of 
delineation, the wonderful skill with which it leaves the filling-in to the 
imagination, and at the same time stimulates the imagination to fill in 

i ustly, one cannot but regretfully wonder that oar English story writers 
iave not more closely studied such artistic models. In their hands such a 
story as this would be simply coarse and vy.e, but from the French one 
does not get altogether that impression. 


LAIRD & LEE, Publishers, Chicago. 








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